


Maid to Serve

by WestOrEast



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Anal, Dominance, Dress-up, F/F, Incest, Light Dom/sub, Maid, Secret Identity, Spanking, Submissive, dildo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 116,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: When Vista hears about a party the Undersiders are hosting, it's clear she can't go. But Missy can. Dressed up as a maid, she sneaks in, looking for useful information. But the only intel she discovers is that Skitter has a thing for cute French maids.





	1. Chapter 1

A wonderful portrait of Missy, done by the talented Ammiety.

 

I smoothed down the front of my dress automatically. Most of my mind was busy hyping myself up. I could do this. Not only could I do this, I _should_ do this. Who knew when a chance like this would come again?  
  
Across the street, the building’s lights were lit up and even from here, I could hear the sound of music and conversation. It looked like the party was already in full swing. There wasn’t a name over the door, but there didn’t need to be. The people who mattered knew where it was and how to get in.  
  
In fact, tonight, even the people who didn’t need to know were getting in. I didn’t have a clue as to why the Undersiders were holding a party at one of their locations, but I could still recognize a chance when it came up and bit me. All I had to do was cross the street and join the people trickling in, in ones, twos or threes. And hell, it wasn’t as if it was a long enough distance to give _me_ pause.  
  
And I was getting cold out here. Stockings really didn’t do much to keep my legs warm, and the rest of my costume ended halfway down my biceps. At least it would be warmer inside. From embarrassment, if nothing else. I liked my Vista costume _way_ more than this maid outfit, but I couldn’t exactly go undercover as a superheroine when I _was_ that superheroine.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I headed across the street and towards the entrance. Time to shine. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake. Okay, I hoped I wasn’t making a _bad_ mistake. Coming here off the clock, out of costume was a mistake. But people would only realize it was a mistake if I got in trouble and needed rescuing. And hopefully, that shouldn’t happen.  
  
There were two redheaded brothers working as bouncers just inside the door. But they didn’t give me a second glance as I faux-nonchalantly strolled on through. I had to admit, that gave me pause. While I could certainly handle myself better than almost anyone in here, I didn’t _look_ like I could. And the maid costume certainly didn’t help me look more badass (which was the entire point). So what, they were just there to remind the would be drunkards there was muscle around? Whatever. I had a baton hidden in the skirt ruffles, an emergency beacon in my headdress and had four years of martial arts under my belt.  
  
And superpowers, of course. It was amazing how many people didn’t realize that a short reach didn’t mean much when I could just warp the difference between my hand and their guy to three inches. So I thought I was pretty well prepared when I stepped out onto the floor.  
  
There were a lot of people there, drinking and talking and dancing. And I was very short, so I had trouble actually seeing much of anything. I started looking for a bar or something, where I could sit on a stool and get a few extra inches of height. Though not have any drinks. This was _not_ the crowd to get tipsy in.  
  
Sure, most of them looked inoffensive enough, but I could still recognize a lot of signs from the briefings. People who worked for Tattletale, Skitter, the whole sordid bunch, were all here. They looked like they were just normal people, and a number of them were. But I knew there were murderers, robbers, drug runners and worse in here. And that was why I was here.  
  
I wanted to get information. So many minions, with so much booze, and such a relaxed atmosphere, somebody was bound to let something slip. And I aimed to be there to pick it up when I did. That would be a nice feather in my cap, discovering some valuable information after a daring infiltration. _That_ would make people sit up and take me as seriously as a veteran with my experience would deserve.  
  
Now I would just need to do it. Looking over the room from the center of it, sitting at the bar, I planned out my next move. Seeing some butch black woman downing shot after shot, I decided on my target. I’d just need to linger around her for a while, listening to her talk to her skinny white friend in a fetish nurse outfit. No way could someone as sloshed as her keep secrets.  
  
Twenty minutes later, I was starting to wonder if I had miscalculated. The woman hadn’t said anything worth listening to, and I was starting to go deaf in one ear. Also, I was feeling a bit hot and sweaty, from all the heat generated by the people in the room. And bored. Very, very bored.  
  
It was almost a relief when a hand landed on my shoulder. Spinning around, I raised my hands in a self-defense position. Then I lowered them, feeling- well, a lot of things. Shock and anger and fear and a horrible sense that it didn’t matter what I felt or did, because I had already lost.  
  
Skitter was in front of me. And I could tell it was Skitter and not some flunky dressed up as her. The bugs crawling over her armor, the sheer _quality_ of the armor, meant that it had to be the meanest, nastiest bitch in the city. And she was right in front of me, in a building full of people who worked for her or her equally disgusting friends.  
  
I was fucked. Well, probably. If she knew I was Vista, I was _fucked_. But if she didn’t, well, I wasn’t hugely good at the social scene but desperation could work wonders.  
  
“Aren’t you a little young to be in here?” she asked, gloved hands on her hips.  
  
“Um, no?” I said, trying to act like I was badly lying. On the inside, I was fuming. I had been working as a superheroine before this bitch’s entire crew had even come onto the scene. “I’m eighteen, just short for me age.”  
  
Frankly, I didn’t care if she believed me or not. If I got thrown out of here, it wasn’t as if I’d lose out on some juicy gossip, not if what I had already heard was any indication.  
  
“Uh huh,” Skitter said, crossing her arms. At least she wasn’t using her bugs to talk, so it was just a slightly muffled human voice. “Come with me. We’re getting your jailbait rear off the floor.”  
  
She turned on her heel and left, confident that I would meekly follow her. After a minute of grinding my teeth I did, though there was nothing meek about my stomps. If only that could be intimating. But my height and my costume made that a joke.  
  
There was an abrupt transition from the noise of the crowd to the hallway just on the other side of the door. The lights were stable, the noise was muffled and it was completely deserted. Skitter stepped through a side door, holding it open for me. I did so and she shut it, entirely muffling the music. This room must have a lot of sound-proofing, I thought. That could be good or bad.  
  
Skitter sat down on a loveseat, tugging at her mask. I watched as she pulled it off, revealing the pale face of the woman underneath it. I kept on thinking of her as Skitter, even though I, and most of the city, knew the name of Taylor Hebert. But so long as she didn’t know about Missy and Vista, it was all still alright.  
  
“You know who I am,” Skitter said, disgustingly self-assured. “And I don’t need to know your name.” That stung, even though I was glad for it. “I am curious about you, though.” She looked me up and down, her face neutral.  
  
“So you’re a maid, are you?” Skitter asked sardonically. She picked up a bottle of water and unscrewed the top. “And either a stupid or brave one, to come here.”  
  
I stayed silent, not sure what to say. From what I’d seen and the reports I read, she could have a vicious, unpredictable temper. At least mutilations only happened to other parahumans. Which I was, but she didn’t need to know that.  
  
“I could use a maid,” she mused, fiddling with the bottle cap. “But not a stupid one. So how can I see which one you are?”  
  
Her tone didn’t invite an answer. And I didn’t give one. For one, I wasn’t sure where this was going, exactly. Did she honestly think I was a maid? Or was this just some weird gloating about how she, the supervillain, had a girl playing dress-up in her clutches?  
  
“Get over here,” she said, taking a drink from the bottle. “Someone like you needs a lesson.”  
  
I slowly walked over to her. I didn’t know what she was planning, but at least it wasn’t bugs. If it was, I would already be screaming on the floor, covered by them. Compared to that, almost anything would be better. The way she bounced around from thought to thought made me wonder if she had been drinking. If she was, that was the only sign of it.  
  
Once I was a foot away from her, Skitter reached out and grabbed me. I squeaked as she pulled me forward, hands rapidly going up my arm. In a few seconds, I was across her lap, looking down at the cushion.  
  
I felt one hand on my lower back and the other on my bottom. Even though I was undeniably in the subordinate position, I had to roll my eyes. This was it? I wasn’t complaining, exactly, but come on.  
  
Seriously? She was going to spank me? What, could she not tell the difference between twelve and six? Or was this what she did to any cute girl she grabbed? The intel reports said she was dating Grue, but what if that was some kind of twisted hobby they shared?  
  
Not even Skitter swinging down her hand changed my mind. There was a sharp burst of pain, but it wasn’t a big burst. The second slap wasn’t any worse. It was just a quick paddling, done by someone who obviously wasn’t putting any real power in it.  
  
A spanking was nothing. It was humiliating, sure. I was bent across someone’s lap as they hit me, my dress not serving as that much of a cushion. But this was far from the worst pain I’d experienced even this week. But there was still something about it, something that was making this unpleasant. Actually, it wasn’t making unpleasant and that was the problem.  
  
It wasn’t something I would ever admit. I could barely admit it to myself. But there was a low churn of arousal in my lower gut. This was… wrong and sick and a couple other negative words. But It was still arousing.  
  
It wasn’t even getting me very wet, or even moist. Just what felt like a light dampness, sticking to my panties. But still. I was getting spanked by a supervillain for infiltrating her party dressed up as a maid. Arousal was not supposed to be an option here.  
  
And yet here I was. I could feel my panties steadily getting damper as Skitter spanked me. My body was instinctively twitching, and I knew that not all of my movements were attempts to get away. The one bit of good news was that Skitter didn’t know how turned on I was. How could she? A red face would because I was getting spanked. And my underwear would do its job of hiding stiff nipples or wet lips.  
  
Somewhat assured that my dirty little secret wasn’t about to be discovered, I did my best to ride the spanking out. Skitter had quite the arm strength, and it took her a while to finish spanking me. Thankfully, she never went below the black skirt I had to get a handful of flesh. I kept on telling myself it was something to be thankful for, even as a traitorous corner of my mind told me that it was a disappointment.  
  
Skitter spanked me for about five minutes, which was impressive given how many swats she got in in those five minutes. By the time she was done, my bottom was stinging, and I was starting to wish she had pulled up my skirt. At least that way the fabric wouldn’t be rubbing against my ass. It had to be glowing red and I wouldn’t be sitting down anytime soon.  
  
More worrying was my arousal. My nipples were two stiff points pressing against my bra. And I was going to have to be careful getting off of Skitter’s lap if I didn’t want her to see that my panties were practically glued to my crotch with my arousal.  
  
“Have you learned your lesson?” Skitter asked, her palm resting on my rear. Her grip was firm, but not squeezing down. It still sent a flash of pain through me, followed by a flash of pleasure almost as strong.  
  
It took a moment for me to answer. Partly because I was short of breath, but mostly because it took a while to get my thoughts together, and to make sure I didn’t blurt out something stupid like ‘harder’.  
  
“Yes.” Then I remembered how much emphasis villains put on respect. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Skitter. Whatever you prefer.”  
  
She snorted. I still couldn’t see her face but her next few words sounded amused.  
  
“Ma’am or Skitter. Miss Skitter sounds like a joke.”  
  
“Of course ma’am,” I said, trying to sound as professional as I could bent over someone’s lap and with my face almost in the cushion. At least it let me focus on something other then the way pain and pleasure were winding around inside of me.  
  
Her arms slid underneath me, gently lifting me up and setting me to my feet. Now that gravity wasn’t pulling the skirt directly down onto my rear, it was a bit better. I was facing away from her, looking at the front of the room. She put her hand on my shoulder, covering most of it.  
  
“Now, the party’s still going on,” Skitter said, a note of self-satisfied contentment in her voice. “So it wouldn’t be right to send a young maid out there. And this room is so very messy. Be a dear and clean it up.”  
  
I looked around, taking the chance to roll my eyes. Skitter was supposed to be a good liar, but she obviously didn’t see a need to be convincing towards a little maid. For one, this room wasn’t messy. It wasn’t spic and span, but it wasn’t a pig pen like, well, mine was.  
  
Hey, I was busy with a lot of stuff. Cleaning up a room I did little more than sleep in was low on my list of priorities. And, honestly? Cleaning a room I didn’t even do that in should have been even lower.  
  
But I also wasn’t leaving. I was kind of horny. I knew I had a submissive streak. There had been enough romantic fantasies of Gallant and I to tell me that. And I knew I wasn’t any kind of dom. My daydreams of doing to Glory Girl what Gallant did to me just never had the spark that he did.  
  
So was I really up to doing some kinky, submissive roleplay with a supervillain who I should be arresting? The answer came as I sorted some books into a straight stack. Yes. Yes I was.  
  
Hell, I was so into it, I had started cleaning even while I was rationalizing my decision. I looked down at the stack of books I had just straightened and wondered what the hell I was doing. There’s wasn’t anybody on the Undersiders who could mess with my mind like this, which meant that this really was me. I really was enjoying being a maid for a supervillain.  
  
I sneaked a look at Skitter as I puttered around the room, not doing a whole lot but at least looking like I was. She was watching me, a tight, odd smile across her face. Her arms were slung across the back of her loveseat. Which was certainly better the alternative. I knew Skitter was fucked up, but that knowledge would go to a whole new level if she started masturbating while I was just _cleaning_.  
  
And not even sexily cleaning, either. I wasn’t bending over at the waist, making my skirt ride up to show off my thighs. I wasn’t swaying my hips as I walked around. I was just cleaning up as best I could without a rag or vacuum or any of the things you needed to _actually_ clean with.  
  
My thoughts were chasing each other around more than was wise. I only clued into that when I lifted a glass vase of flowers. One second I was holding it in one hand, the next there was nothing but air. And a crash ringing in my ears, and a few droplets of water hitting my ankles.  
  
I froze, staring down. The vase was hopelessly shattered, water spreading across the floor. And even the rose stem had been cut in two by a shard of glass. The only way this could get worse was if someone slipped on the water and landed face first on the glass. Fuck. _Fuck_. How on earth could I have been so fucking careless? Great job, Missy, great fucking job.  
  
I started as I felt a presence behind me. Skitter had managed to silently cross the distance between the loveseat and here while I was staring down at the stricken vase. Her bare face was just as blank as her mask was. She looked from the mess to me.  
  
“I’m disappointed,” she said calmly. “I thought you were just a reckless maid. I didn’t realize you were a _clumsy_ maid as well.”  
  
I flushed, but couldn’t think of any witty retort. It had just been a stupid moment of carelessness, totally unfitting for someone like me. The one bright side was that Skitter obviously wasn’t angry, so I’d probably just be getting another spanking.  
  
That wouldn’t exactly be enjoyable, especially since my bottom was still aching. But, all things considered, a spanking was still just a spanking. Unless, of course, she thought that I needed more than a spanking. In which case, _welp_.  
  
“How can I get rid of the clumsiness,” Skitter said musingly, tapping her gloved, almost claw-like fingers against her chin. “How can I show a silly little maid how to do better?”  
  
I didn’t answer. Instead I fidgeted, shifting from side to side as I tried to keep my hands at my sides. The arousal inside my belly was slowly dying, but not fast enough. I was still feeling an aching need in between my legs, something that needed to be filled.  
  
“Maybe the problem is that those clothes are distracting you.”  
  
What? She couldn’t honestly believe that, could she? Then I got a better look at Skitter’s face. There was a kind of tenseness in it. But it was also mixed with anticipation. Then the light dawned on me. Just like I was a kinky sub who got turned on spanking, Skitter was a kinky dom who got turned on by spanking. It must have been _agony_ for her, waiting for me to make a mistake so I could be punished.  
  
If my revelation showed on my face, Skitter didn’t comment on it. Instead, her fingers slid down the back of my neck to fiddle with the tab keeping my maid outfit secured around my neck. It took a few tries for her to figure out how it connected together. But then she tugged at it and I felt the dress sag at my shoulders.  
  
And now was the decision point. Did I raise my arms and let my costume slid off of me? Or stay passive, and see how much Skitter groped me as she undressed me? What one was less humi-  
  
I realized my arms were already raised up and my dress was puddling around my feet. Damn it, Missy, start thinking with your brain. She was still a villain even if she was making me feel horny.  
  
Skitter walked around me, obviously checking me out. I shivered, wondering if I was going to feel her hands wandering all over me, groping and pinching me. And if she would discover how wet I was.  
  
Instead, she just came back around to my front. There was a small, tight smile on her lips as she nodded in approval. Crossing her arms, she looked me in the eyes. I swallowed, but met her gaze. Sure, some subby little maid shouldn’t be doing that, but I was still Vista, the experienced superhero. There were limits.  
  
“Do you need me to finish undressing you, or can you manage that on your own?” Skitter asked wryly.  
  
I flushed, and started tugging at my bra. I normally didn’t wear one, because I was far too young and flat to need one. But it and my panties had come with the rest of the maid outfit, so I had tossed them on. And the frilly nature of them had made me feel quite attractive and feminine, even if nobody was else was supposed to be seeing them.  
  
I got out of my bra pretty quickly. I was about to toss it to the ground, when I remembered the role I was playing. I was sure Skitter would go harder on a reckless, clumsy, sloppy maid than she would on just a reckless, clumsy maid.  
  
Instead, I neatly folded it and placed it on the tabletop where I had picked up the vase from. I glanced down at it. Yep, the water and glass and everything were still there. Someone (me, probably) really should take care of it, but I just couldn’t find the motivation to do so right now. Not compared to finishing stripping in front of Skitter, presumably so she could punish me again.  
  
I inched my panties down my thighs. Luckily, I wasn’t so wet that there was a line of arousal connecting my panties to my crotch or anything. Although there was a rather noticeable wet spot on them. I would just have to hope Skitter didn’t see it, somehow.  
  
I stepped out of my panties and grabbed my maid’s dress off of the floor. Stepping around the mess, I put them both next to my bra. Then I turned back around, wondering what was going to happen next. I hoped it would feel nice, and help to take my mind off of me being functionally naked in front of someone else.  
  
I was left only in my stockings and that frilly headdress thing, after all. And that really wasn’t enough. I grabbed my other arm and looked away, biting my lip. I didn’t want to look up and see- I wasn’t sure what, in Skitter’s eyes. Lust, amusement, anything. Nervousness was starting to mix with my arousal, especially now that the pain was dying down.  
  
“Good god, do you practice looking that cute?” Skitter asked in an amused tone.  
  
I flushed, realizing how vulnerable I had just made myself look. I knew I looked cute even when I tried to look imposing, and right now, mostly naked, there was no way I could look anything but vulnerable. And since Skitter liked that look, I must have just pushed even more of her buttons.  
  
Skitter stepped behind me, and placed a hand against my back. The silk of her glove was cool to the touch. She pushed me forward, back to the loveseat. I stumbled forward, almost tripping over my own feet. I caught myself and kept on walking, matching Skitter’s pace.  
  
I stopped in front of the loveseat, waiting for Skitter to get on and pull me back across her lap. Instead, I felt a hand at my shoulder, driving me down. I knelt, confused about what she was planning. Was she going to have me lick her out? If so, she was going to be disappointed. I had explored myself pretty well, and knew a lot about how the female body responded to pleasure. But oral just wasn’t something a girl could do to herself.  
  
“Put your hands on the couch,” Skitter said, her voice calmly certain. She obviously didn’t think there was any chance I would disobey.  
  
I put my hands on the cushions, proving her right. I had to lean forward a bit and rise up. I realized that this position was showing off as much of a butt as I had. Was she going to spank me again? If so, why the new position?  
  
I looked behind me, trying to guess what was about to happen to me. As I turned my head, Skitter reached past me, her long arm going for a case on the table next to the seat. She grabbed it and brought it back. I heard the click of a latch opening, but her hands were _just_ out of sight.  
  
Then she pulled out a small, narrow chrome rod. It was rounded on one end. My breath caught and a blush spread across my face as I realized what that was and what was about to happen to me. I didn’t have a dildo myself, but I could still recognize one.  
  
It was kind of disturbing that she had a sex toy right there, on hand. On the other hand, there was a whole lot of lust inside me, and I was glad I wouldn’t have to wait around while she looked for it.  
  
“I realize that it’s a bit counterintuitive, to spank you for coming with you, and then fuck you for breaking something,” Skitter said, her gloved fingers wandering over my backside. “I’ll just have to hope you still manage to take the right lesson from this.” Her hand caressed my rear. “One way or another.”  
  
I quivered in- I wasn’t sure exactly. Nervousness? Anticipation? Both? Either way, my body was lightly shaking as Skitter moved her hand from my cheek to the line in between them. I made a small sound as I felt something cool press against my rear entrance.  
  
“Wha- what are you doing?” I hated the way my voice quavered. “And I will be a good girl. Please don’t spank me again.”  
  
“I’m lubing you up, of course,” Skitter said in an amused tone. “Your virginity is something precious, to be given, not taken. And I’ll spank you when I decide you need a spanking.”  
  
I shivered. So it was going to be anal, huh? That was… really unexpected. I had always thought I would have gotten used to regular sex before someone went for my ass. Or that I would have been kissed, even. But I didn’t pull away. There was a lusty fire in my belly, and I didn’t want to have to try and soothe it just using my hands.  
  
So sure, I was willing to try anal. I wiggled my hips a bit as Skitter lubed me up. I hope she did a good job. I had never taken anything back there, and even the small dildo was still big enough to look a bit worrisome.  
  
Thankfully, she had. I could feel the excess lube slowly, very slowly, sliding down the curve of my ass by the time Skitter placed the toy at my rosebud. I could feel cool, slick lube on it too. She rested one hand on my shoulder. I took a deep breath and- she- pushed-  
  
It was an… intense feeling. I wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Kind of good, kind of bad, mostly weird. My breath hissed through my teeth as she pushed the toy in deeper and deeper. I could feel my legs shaking, and it was a good thing I was already kneeling.  
  
When Skitter stopped, I could tell that there was a lot more room left inside me. Maybe she had pushed the toy in as far as it could go. At any rate, she started pulling it out and I felt the sensation of the dildo almost leaving my ass.  
  
The next time, it felt a little less weird and a little more good. My arousal had died a bit, waiting for Skitter to get prepared. But now, as she worked the toy in and out of my ass, it was coming back stronger than ever. I grunted, pushing my hips back as Skitter fucked me.  
  
“I know you screwed up,” Skitter said, still going at the same slow, steady pace. “But I can forgive you. You’ll get another chance to prove that you can be my maid. Do you want that?”  
  
“Yeesss,” I moaned, feeling my brain melting as Skitter slid in and out of me. “I’ll, I’ll be the best,” I stopped to pant for breath, “maid you’ve ever had. Just please, please don’t stop!”  
  
She didn’t. And a few thrusts later, I felt the pleasure inside me rise to a peak. I yipped, feeling myself collapse around the dildo. It was so much better than masturbation had even been.  
  
God, I was cumming from my ass. And it felt so good. I fell forward, my head landing on the cushion as I panted. My entire body was shaking as my ass squeezed down on the dildo inside me. Skitter was stroking my hair, murmuring soft words to me as I shook.  
  
Finally, I recovered. Or stopped cumming at least. I felt a bone deep, lazy satisfaction. Like I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. Skitter obviously felt more energetic. She stood up, drawing the toy out of me. She walked away and came back a moment later. I looked up at her.  
  
“Here,” Skitter said, handing me a necklace.  
  
I peered at it, seeing a transparent plastic cube at the end. There was a ladybug inside, its legs occasionally slipping out of the air holes around it. I looked up at Skitter, not sure what I was seeing.  
  
“A little girl like you needs to be kept safe,” she said. I didn’t visibly react to the condensation. “Just keep that with you, and if you’re ever in trouble, crush the cube.” She clenched her fist together. “I’ll know.”  
A smirk spread across her face as she ruffled my hair, fingers slipping through my locks.  
  
“After all, I wouldn’t want some creep to come and do naughty things to you.”


	2. Chapter 2

I was doing half a dozen things, and I wasn’t even straining myself. My black widows were churning out spider silk. I’d gotten the rest of the Undersiders protected with spider silk costumes, and now I was making hooded shirts for my trusted… minions, to be frank, to wear. More of me was slowly reading the paperwork that had accumulated, dozens of bug eyes trying to decipher a mixture of handwriting in half a dozen kinds of papers and pens and computer printouts. The rest of my swarm was either hidden in my costume or just around, keeping an eye on the several city blocks around me.  
  
As for what I, my actual body was doing? I was leaning on a rail, looking into the pit in front of me. There were people drinking, talking, dancing, making out, the whole range of usual part behavior. I could see the emblems of all of the Undersiders on them, the majority my own stylized spider logo. There were even a few people from the tributary gangs we kept around on the outskirts of Brockton Bay.  
  
I was a bit worried about the white hats deciding to crash the party, but not too much. Nothing significantly more illegal than any other party was happening, so far as I could tell. I looked over the crowd and sighed. Speak of the devil.  
  
There was a kid, twelve years old at most, in here. I had no idea how she had gotten past the bouncers, especially looking like that. The sexy maid costume was bad enough. I had already had to deliver a few wasp stings to people who couldn’t grasp the concept that showing cleavage did not mean that the wearer wanted to be groped. If that happened to a kid? Yeah, _not_ a good look.  
  
Rolling my eyes underneath my mask, I started towards her, working my away around the perimeter of the crowded room. Sure, one of the staff here could take care of it, but it wasn’t as if I had anything else to do. And there was no way anyone here would be dumb enough to pick a fight with me.  
  
It was easy enough to intercept her. Part of that was because I had already added some bugs to her costume, crawling into the black folds. The other was that she had stopped, hovering next to a table where two people were talking and drinking. Hoping to scrounge some booze off of them? Not as bad as her getting felt up, but still not good.  
  
She didn’t hear me coming up behind her. Not that anyone could, with the music we were playing. Still, the way she almost jumped out of her skin when I grabbed her shoulder brought a smile to my face. She whirled around, raising her hands in a self-defense position. Maybe she wasn’t quite as dumb as I had first thought.  
  
She obviously recognized me, as if there were that many slender, dark-haired women with bugs crawling all over their armored bodysuit. The look of shock and horror that briefly washed over her face was one I had come to expect, though not appreciate. She lowered her hands, looking from side to side.  
  
I put my own hands on my hips, looking down at her. Even through the yellow-tinged vision of my lenses, I could tell that she was a cute kid. A very youthful face, that had probably looked innocent before she had to spend time in Brockton Bay.  
  
“Aren’t you a little young to be in here?” I asked. No need to use anything but my real voice.  
  
“Um, no?” She said, obviously lying through her teeth. The overly saccharine expression she gave me didn’t make her any more believable. “I’m eighteen, just short for my age.”  
  
Eighteen. Right. I found it hard to believe there could be somebody even more neglected by puberty than me, especially with a few more years on her. Still, there was a hint of something more lurking behind her eyes. Presumably the same drive that had made her think this was a good idea in the first place.  
  
“Uh huh,” I replied, crossing my arms. She was a bit tough to figure out. Usually people showed more fear, had a puffed-up sense of bravado on top of a whole lot of worry, or they were confident enough in their power or connection to not be too afraid. I wondered… “Come with me. We’re getting your jailbait rear off the floor.”  
  
I turned and walked towards the rear of the building. After a second, she started following me. Through some crowds that made way for me, then through a door and into a much quieter hallway. One more door, and I was stepping into my living quarters for this part of town.  
  
I held the door open for the girl, and shut it behind her. And now I couldn’t hear a single beat of the music. Good thing too, since the music selection had been to cater to the crowd and not what I liked. That distraction behind me, I could focus on dealing with the too-cocky girl who came to a party of criminals wearing something that would have been slutty on someone much older.  
  
I sat down on the miniature couch, tugging my mask off. I blinked once or twice in the now untinted light as I slipped my glasses on. The girl was standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped together. Just a tad nervous, which was a lot less than she should be feeling, hauled into a villain’s lair.  
  
“You know who I am,” I said, secure in the obviousness of it. “And I don’t need to know who you are.” As if I could trust any name she gave me. “I _am_ curious about you, though.”  
  
I looked her up and down. Where had she even found a maid costume that size? Although I had to say, it did rather fit her. No cleavage showing, and the stockings went up underneath her skirt. Her shoulders were covered as well. It was hard to describe exactly how this was a naughty maid’s outfit, given that everything was where it should be. But it just _was_. Maybe it was because of the cute face underneath the frilly headdress and above the white choker. There was a look of defiance and nervousness rolling too and fro as she looked up at me.  
  
“So you’re a maid, are you?” I took a sip from a water bottle sitting next to my hand. “And either a stupid or a brave one, to come here.”  
  
She didn’t answer. I rolled the bottle cap around in my fingers, thinking things over. She _was_ cute. And I certainly wouldn’t be the only one to think so. It would be a bad idea to send her out onto the dance floor, or even into the surrounding area. There were a lot of people who had left the building, getting high, making out, all sorts of things. Nothing someone as young as she looked like should be getting involved with.  
  
“I could use a maid,” I said after a moment. “But not a stupid one. So which one are you?”  
  
Again, no answer. She was starting to piss me off. I had no idea what was going through her head, especially since she had kept a tight enough lid on her face. Fine, if she wanted to play hardball, I could play that way too. Let’s see if a bit of manual stimulation would get her to say why she came to a party peopled with criminals dressed like this.  
  
“Get over here,” I said, putting a bit of steel in my voice. “Someone like you needs a lesson.”  
  
That got some worry to wash over her face. She slowly walked over, her steps coming slower and slower the closer she got to me. Finally thinking about consequences? A bit too late for that.  
  
Once she was a foot away from me, she was moving slow enough I reached out and grabbed her arm. Tugging her forward, I pulled her up onto my lap. It was the work of half a second to flip her over. I grabbed hold of both of her wrists, keeping them pinned together at the small of her back. My other hand was a bit lower than that.  
  
My hand almost slid up underneath her skirt, and I wasn’t even trying to do it. _That_ had been what was so slutty about it, I realized. Sure, it wasn’t showing skin, but the shortness of it and how wide the bottom was (I wished I knew the more technical language for clothes) would have made it easy to see up, if there was anyone shorter than her.  
  
Well, I wasn’t complaining. The curve to her butt was surprisingly nice. It seemed to fit my gloved hand quite well, letting my fingers and palm cover almost every inch of it. I gently kneaded it for a minute, barely squeezing my fingers down to see how much was there.  
  
More than I would have thought, really. She must be in pretty good shape, to have that much muscle underneath her skin and fat. Maybe she was even a runner, like me.  
  
If she was, it wasn’t going to save her. Raising my hand up, I let it swing down. From the way her body jolted, the black fabric of her skirt didn’t do a very good job of protecting her rear. Not that I put too much power into it. I had never had to spank someone before, and I didn’t want to actually hurt her, whoever she was. I just needed to punctuate the lesson.  
  
And I had to admit, I was enjoying the lesson. There was something… _satisfying_ about listening to the girl try not to cry out as I spanked her. There was no crack of flesh against flesh that I had expected based on… well, never mind why I expected that sound. Just a slapping sound as I hit her ruffled dress. But she still moved around just as much as I had expected.  
  
Trying to get away, trying to move forward in time with the slaps, all that sort of thing. It was fun to watch. Hell, it was even kind of exciting. My own blush was a lot fainter than the one on her face, but it was still there.  
  
As I spanked her, I noticed a funny smell intruding. I sniffed, trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from. Then the penny dropped. I looked down at the maid, my eyes widening. This was _her?_ She was getting turned on from being spanked? Well, well, well. That was… quite the interesting bit of information.  
  
All of a sudden, the reason she had come here became a _lot_ clearer. She was hoping that some creepy pervert would grab her and feel her up. Seemed a bit of an advanced kink for someone her apparent age, and I wondered how old she actually she was. At any rate, it was a good thing I had gotten to her before some creep had. Of course, that still left the question about what to do with her.  
  
There was obviously no way I could let her go out now, even with a swarm protecting her. She didn’t _want_ to be protected. She was probably wishing there were more windowless white vans around, so she could live out whatever depraved, submissive fantasies she had. And I certainly couldn’t inflict that kind of depravity on the people under my protection.  
  
There was also another small problem. Just like she had gotten turned on by being spanked, I was discovering that I was turned on by spanking her. Not much, it was little more than a faint warmth in my lower stomach. But it was still there, and there as a result of turning the younger girl on my lap over and painting her hide red.  
  
I kept a lid on my lust, and stopped myself from examining just how wet she was underneath the skirt. And didn’t trust myself to stay calm if I knew the answer. After all, I had to be going pretty hot and heavy before I ever noticed the smell when I was masturbating.  
  
Focus, Taylor. Get a grip. Obviously both of us were in danger if I kept the new maid bent over my lap. So it would be best if she went and did maid things.  
  
“Have you learned your lesson?” I asked, keeping a hand on her ass. I wondered how it felt, the pressure against her sore rear.  
  
There was a short pause, just long enough to make me wonder. Then she answered.  
  
“Yes,” she answered, in a funny tone. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Skitter. Whatever you prefer.”  
  
I snorted. Christ, what would Alec or Aisha think if they heard someone calling me ‘Miss Skitter’? It sounded like something out of a bad story. And jumping right to ‘Miss’? Was this some kind of roleplay? If it was, I was more than glad to oblige.  
  
“Ma’am or Skitter. Miss Skitter sounds like a joke.” I didn’t bother to keep my amusement out of my voice.  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” she answered, in what could have been a professional voice if she wasn’t bent over my lap.  
  
I picked her up and set her on her feet in front of me. I didn’t have much strength in my arms, but she was light enough I barely even needed to try.  
  
“Now, the party’s still going on,” I said, smiling to myself. “So it wouldn’t be right to send a young maid out there. And this room is so very messy. Be a dear and clean it up.” It also wouldn’t be right to inflict a deviant like her on the partygoers.  
  
I leaned back in my seat, wondering if this was going to push her over the edge. Just because she was dressed up like a maid didn’t necessarily mean she had any intention of doing housework. Just like I was sure the half dozen women out on the dance floor dressed up as sexy nurses had no intention of emptying any bedpans.  
  
But to my surprise, after a minute or two, she actually started working. I wished I could see her face, watch whatever emotions had played over it; indecision before agreeing to do something she didn’t like? Happiness at being treated how she wanted to be? Disappointment at the sexy times ending? Sadly, I had put her down facing away from me, so there was no way to tell.  
  
There wasn’t much in the way of work for her to actually do. I kept the place clean, at least outside of my workshop, where there was a bunch of aborted costumes and swathes of silk laying around. But out here, in the common room? Yeah, very little for Miss Maid to do.  
  
Which didn’t mean I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to watch her work. Because I wasn’t a pervert, no matter what the heat in my crotch said, my hands were draped over the back of the loveseat as I watched her work.  
  
She didn’t put on much of a show, with no butt wiggling or bending at the waist. But that was okay, because I wasn’t a pervert who would get excited at that sort of thing. I was just a normal girl, well, supervillain, watching the young girl dressed in a slutty costume clean after I dragged her into a room that only had the two of us in it. Perfectly normal.  
  
What was less normal was the crash as she leaned over an end table. I straightened up, my gaze focusing. She was standing with a pile of broken glass and flowers in between her feet.  
  
I hissed between my teeth. Sierra had given me those two days ago, something to brighten the place up, she said. And now I could see the fall or the glass had severed the stems, surely killing them.  
  
I stood up as my maid stared down at the mess she had made while cleaning up. Her body language, as much as I could tell from only seeing her back, was shocked and worried. And that was certainly the right attitude to take.  
  
I quickly, silently walked across the room, ending up behind her. She must have heard me coming, or seen the way the light changed. She slowly turned around, her face a picture. That cute face, all screwed up, sent something through me. I really wanted to see more of it, though in a slightly different context. My own face, in contrast, I was keeping carefully blank.  
  
“I’m disappointed,” I said calmly. “I thought you were just a reckless maid. I didn’t realize you were a _clumsy_ maid as well.”  
  
She turned red, but didn’t say anything. I did notice her hands grabbing each other, worryingly fidgeting. Oh, I’d give her something to worry about, all right.  
  
“How can I get rid of the clumsiness,” I asked rhetorically, tapping my fingers against my chin. “How can I show a silly little maid how to do better?”  
  
My mind was racing ideas, calling up daydreams I had never once thought I would ever have the chance to use. They just didn’t seem right on Brian or Alec, Lisa wouldn’t enjoy them, Rachel would punch me out for even suggesting them, and god only knows what Aisha would do, beyond something amusing to an outside observer and awful for me. As for Lily and Sabah, it just didn’t seem right to intrude on their private, _very_ kinky lives (I would always regret sending some bugs to see if they were home, and overhearing what Sabah called Lily in the bedroom.)  
  
So, in a way, my maid’s clumsiness was a golden opportunity. I could finally get to try some of my ideas out. Hell, in hindsight, I already had. Spanking had featured in them, though it had been with a naked girl with a lot more development. Well, at least one of those things could be changed.  
  
“Maybe the problem is that those clothes are distracting you.”  
  
_That_ got a reaction from her. She blinked twice and looked up at me, eyes wide. But there was something in her face that wasn’t fear or shock or outrage. Something that only grew as I slid my hand down the back of her neck to the collar of her dress. It took a bit of fiddling before I could find the tab and how to undo it, but I managed.  
  
The dress sagged, revealing part of her shoulders. She had quite the pale skin, with a smattering of freckles on the upper part of her shoulders. She held still for a minute, before she raised her arms. Her dress fell off her body, puddling on the floor. And I got a very good look at her.  
  
Her underwear was a matching set that had obviously come with the outfit. The bra was quite unnecessary, since she was about as flat as I was (and with a far better reason). But it still made her look quite cute and girly.  
  
I circled around her, checking her out from every angle. The panties didn’t cover all of her small ass, and I could see some red at the edges, the glow from my spanking only slowly fading away. Still, it did do a good job of hiding how wet she was. I could only smell her arousal, not see it sticking to her.  
  
The stockings she was wearing did a good job of presenting her legs. And they were pretty toned legs, I could tell. Obviously, she did a lot of walking or running. Her arms were just as muscled, though I didn’t think that someone her age could put that much force behind a blow  
  
My maid looked very cute. It was a good thing I had gotten her off the dance floor. I was sure she would have ensnared some guy by now if I had left her alone. But, as cute as she was, she had still messed up. And that meant she had to be punished.  
  
“Do you need me to finish undressing you, or can you manage that on your own?” I asked, keeping the amusement more or less out of my voice.  
  
Silently, she pulled away her bra and panties, neatly folding them and placing them on the endtable. I narrowed my eyes as I saw a damp spot on the front of her panties. Naughty, naughty.  
  
The embarrassment of stripping in front a supervillain finally seemed to catch up with her. She looked down at the floor and clutched one arm. It was quite cute, and looked fairly appropriate for someone her age. Not that I would go easier on her because of it.  
  
“Good god, do you practice looking that cute?” I asked in an amused tone.  
  
She didn’t answer, as I circled around her. I put one gloved hand against the top of her back and pushed her forward. She stumbled at first, but kept on going, heading to the loveseat.  
  
She stopped, just before she would have tripped over the couch. She glanced back at me, confusion clear on her face. Well, she’d learn soon enough. I shifted my hand, now pushing down on her shoulder. She sank to her knees in front of the loveseat.  
  
“Put your hands on the couch,” I said, thinking over what I would need.  
  
The maid instantly obeyed, putting her white gloved hands on the cushions. She rose up a bit to do that, sticking her butt out. If it wasn’t so low to the ground, that would have been an excellent spanking position. But I had another idea in mind.  
  
She looked back at me as I reached over to the case sitting on the table next to the couch. Flipping it open, I grabbed the two things from it I would need. I could hear her gasp as I withdrew the dildo and the lube. I wasn’t at all surprised she recognized sex toys when she saw them.  
  
I knelt down behind her, popping the cap off of the lube. I let one hand glide over her smooth skin, admiring her slight curves. This was going to be fun.  
  
I pulled off my glove and squirted some lube onto my fingers. The way her body was slightly shaking was just too cute. I might have been worried about her shaking in fear, if I hadn’t seen a drop of arousal fall from her lower lips.  
  
“I realize that it’s a bit counterintuitive, to spank you for coming with you, and then fuck you for breaking something,” I said, my fingers wandering over her backside. “I’ll just have to hope you still manage to take the right lesson from this.” My hand caressed her rear. “One way or another.”  
  
Then I pressed my thumb against her rear. She kept very good care of herself, and was utterly clean. And very, very tight. I had to press to get my thumb to slide in. But it did, and the whole body quiver she gave was more than worth it.  
  
“Wha- what are you doing?” There was an utterly delicious tremor in her voice. “And I will be a good girl. Please don’t spank me again.”  
  
Yeah, right. I doubted she had ever been a good girl in her entire life. Not if she felt like dressing up as a slutty maid so she could get nabbed by a supervillain was her idea of a good time.  
  
“I’m lubing you up, of course,” I said, laughter bubbling in my voice. “Your virginity is something precious, to be given, not taken. And I’ll spank you when I decide you need a spanking.”  
  
  
Further proof of how lewd she was, as if it was needed, was displayed by the way she shook her ass a bit as I lubed her up. She was tight, but I wondered how often she had dreamt of this happening to her. Well, I was intent on making sure she got the best experience possible. And that meant giving both her and the dildo a whole lot of lube.  
  
I only finished fingering her ass when lube was starting to run down her skin towards her pussy. Where, I was sure, it would get lost in the arousal flowing from there. I turned my attention to the dildo, getting it nice and shiny, ready for use.  
  
I rested it against her rosebud. I put my other hand on her shoulder, getting a firm grip. And then I _pushed_.  
  
She made an adorable little hiss as I slowly, oh so slowly, slid the toy inside her. I smiled tightly, watching the colored shaft disappear inside of her. It was a lovely, steady motion, her ass slowly swallowing inch after inch.  
  
I had to admit, it was turning me on. This small, cute body underneath me, trying so hard not to whimper as I fucked her ass was such an amazing sight. I could feel my own pussy getting wet, though it was nothing compared to how drenched she was.  
  
Her entire body was shaking by the time I got the toy in as far as it could go. I let it sit there for a moment, before drawing it back out. I pulled her body back with me, her ass not wanting to let go of the toy.  
  
I got a rhythm going, slowly fucking the maid. And she loved it. I could see the arousal between her lower lips growing and growing, and the soft noises she was making had a lot more to do with arousal than with discomfort.  
  
“I know you screwed up,” I said, still going at the same slow, steady pace. “But I can forgive you. You’ll get another chance to prove that you can be my maid. Do you want that?”  
  
“Yeesss,” she moaned. I could almost see the drool spilling from her lips. “I’ll, I’ll be the best,” I stopped to pant for breath, “maid you’ve ever had. Just please, please don’t stop!”  
  
And oh my god, that was hot beyond words. I barely managed to keep fucking her as I shivered in turn. My panties were starting to stick to me, glued there by my arousal. Obviously, I was going to need to take care of this. But not quite yet. Wrap her up (possibly literally, I did have some lengths of silk rope around) and _then_ I could focus on getting my own rocks off.  
  
And I didn’t think I would have to wait too much longer. She was moaning and squealing fit to burst. It was the second hottest thing I had ever seen. The way her hands were tightly grabbing the seat cushions, the way she was thrusting back against me, the way she was softly mumbling, encouraging me to go on; I was starting to wonder if it was possible to cum without ever touching yourself.  
  
It was obviously possible for a girl to cum from getting fucked in her ass. Her orgasm was a sight to see. Her entire body shivered, limbs knocking against the couch and the floor as she fell forward, her upper body pressed against the couch.  
  
“Shh, it’s alright,” I murmured, leaning forward so I could whisper in her ear. “It’s all alright, just enjoy what you’re feeling.” I gently stroked her hair with my free hand as I slowed my thrusts down.  
  
I withdrew the dildo and put it to one side. She was obviously out of it for a while, so there were some things I could take care of. First of all, putting the toys away. Secondly, I walked over to a counter and grabbed one of the plastic cubes I kept there. I called a ladybug over and had it crawl into the cube. Sealing it shut, I walked back over to my maid.  
  
She had recovered enough by now to notice what was happening. She looked up at me, the last remnants of lust still in her face. It was quite the cute expression, and I wanted to see more of it.  
  
“Here,” I said, handing her the necklace.  
  
“A little girl like you needs to be kept safe,” I said. She kept a blank face a that, which probably meant I hit a nerve. “Just keep that with you, and if you’re ever in trouble, crush the cube.” I made a fist in demonstration. “I’ll know.”  
  
“After all, I wouldn’t want some creep to come and do naughty things to you.”  
  
It wouldn’t be polite to say who I thought would be creeping on who. And anyway, I supposed it was possible she was only a lesbian pervert, and not a bisexual pervert, in which case she really wouldn’t enjoy getting nabbed by some guy.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” she said, demurely looking at the floor.  
  
“Not a problem,” I said, smiling down at… at… “What’s your name, anyway?”  
  
“Missy,” she said, glancing up before looking down again.  
  
“Missy the maid,” I drawled. “Right. And if you’d come as a naughty nurse, your name would be Nancy?” She twitched. I must be right. “Fine, fine, call yourself what you want.”  
  
Looking down at the naked girl, I felt something turn over in my stomach. God, I was turned on. Not a surprise, really. I had just fucked a naughty maid in the ass so hard she came. That was the kind of thing that would get anyone excited. But that still left me turned on. And needing a way to get rid of the tension.  
  
And, as luck would have it, there was a far better source than my fingers right in front of me. I didn’t think she was going to object to this, so the biggest challenge would be getting out of my costume without killing the mood. It wasn’t as if this was designed with sexiness or ease of disrobing in mind. Hell, I didn’t even have interesting underwear on underneath.  
  
I’d just have to wing it. Reaching around to the back of my neck, I pulled at the collar. Looking down at the maid, at _Missy_ , I smirked.  
  
“Now, there’s one more mess you have to clean up before you leave. Are you alright with that?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” she said quickly and loudly. I smiled- “Just tell me where the broom and dustpan is!”  
  
What? Oh, right, the broken vase and flowers. Well, that _did_ need cleaning up. And it would give me a chance to wiggle out of this without being obvious.  
  
“Down the hall, second door on your left,” I said, sending a butterfly to hover around her head.  
  
“Right! I’ll get right on it,” she chirped.  
  
Watching her leave, I wondered if she had forgotten to get dressed, or if just dressing up as a sexy maid wasn’t enough for her anymore. Well, if she was hoping to show her lewd, young body off to people, she’d be disappointed. She wouldn’t be meeting anyone on the way there and back.  
  
I waited until her cute, red ass had wiggled out of sight. Then I started undressing. The firefly could track her progress, and I could tell I was barely going to have time. My bodysuit fit _tightly_. Not very lewdly, though, since all the armor bulked me up a bit. It was still a pain to wiggle in and out of.  
  
I managed it, though, and got rid of the odds and ends I had on underneath. By the time Missy opened the door again, I was lounging on the loveseat, buck naked. And it had quite the effect on her. She stopped, leaving the door open behind her as she stared at me.  
  
I knew I was, at best, average looking. But the way Missy looked at me, a hunger in her eyes, made me feel as beautiful as Aisha. Missy was pretty nice to look at well, since she was still naked. Those slight curves, barely different from mine, the faint glimmers of arousal on her thighs, the smooth lines of her limbs… Missy was quite the treat to look at.  
  
Missy seemed to think the same of me, since she briefly licked her lips before dragging her eyes up to my face. I leaned back in the loveseat and spread my legs, exposing my wet core. And I was a lot wetter than I would have thought. Playing with Missy like this had started a fire in me, and I was looking forward to seeing how she was going to put it out.  
  
“Get over here and clean up your mess,” I said, running my hands down my torso. My hands felt nice, but I wanted something even better.  
  
“Ye-yes!” Missy said, dropping the cleaning supplies she was carrying. She barely remembered to close the door behind her as she scampered over.  
  
She also almost tripped over her discarded uniform, the black fabric flying out from underneath her as she stepped on it. There was a tense few seconds when it looked like she was about to land flat on her face. But she recovered her balance and I sank back in my seat.  
  
Missy arrived right after that, moving so fast she skidded forward as she dropped to her knees. She put her hands on my own knees, the small palms and fingers pressing against the skin and bone. She looked up at me, a nervous expression on her face. Had she never eaten a girl out before? Well, neither had I. And while Parian and Foil were at the party, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to call them in for a tip or two.  
  
So the two of us would just have to rediscover this from first principles. How hard could it be?  
  
I shifted position slightly, inching my crotch closer to Missy. One hand reached out to rest on top of her head, while the other slid down my bare skin to my lower lips. I shivered at the contact. Seeing that cute face so close to my core would be enough to get me to masturbate to completion, although that would be a waste.  
  
“Come on, give it a kiss,” I softly told Missy.  
  
She obeyed, leaning forward. The puff of her warm breath against my sensitive lower lips felt nice. The press of lips against lips felt even better. I smiled, feeling a bit of arousal get smeared across my skin by her kiss. And across her face, probably.  
  
I didn’t even need to tell her what to do next. Missy started licking, her small tongue feeling a lot bigger inside of me. And she seemed to be moving it every which way inside my pussy, giving a lick to every inch.  
  
My grip tightened, both on her head and on my knee. This was feeling way better than I had thought it would. I brought my free hand up to play with my breasts. Or, since there really wasn’t enough breast there to play with, my nipples.  
  
“Good girl,” I managed to get out, keeping a more or less level tone. “Just keep on licking.” Remembering that she was supposed to be my maid, I added, “I don’t want to see a single speck left when you’re done.”  
  
That was about my limit for roleplaying, or even doing anything beyond enjoying what Missy was doing to me. How could oral sex be this good? And it wasn’t even as if Missy was very good at it. I could tell from the way she drew her head back, or brushed my clit with her teeth, and a couple of other things that didn’t feel good at all. But, I don’t know, the _thrill_ of having a young maid in between my legs, submissively servicing me was more than enough to make up for any flaws in Missy’s technique.  
  
I kept a firm grip on the back of Missy’s head, slowly riding her face. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling the lust inside me wind around itself, slowly growing and filling me up with pleasure. I pinched a stiff nipple and hissed through clenched teeth. Damn, that felt good. It felt so good, I did it again, and timed it with Missy’s tongue sliding in between my lower lips.  
  
I didn’t see a reason to tell her I was cumming. After all, Missy was here to clean up the mess she had made. That there was still more work to do was just something that should be expected. And I wanted to see her reaction to getting her face splattered with my femcum.  
  
So when I came, I came silently. My hips bucked as I rubbed my pussy against Missy’s face, smearing my arousal all over her cute, dainty features. I pinched a nipple so hard it almost hurt, but nothing could distract me from the pleasure surging out of me.  
  
I sagged down on the couch, drained after one of the better orgasms I had ever had. Aftershocks of pleasure still ran through me, tendrils of sensation pulsing out from my overstimulated pussy. I sighed heavily, letting a rare smile appear on my face.  
  
And Missy kept on working, being a good maid. She was still between my legs, dutifully licking at my slit, getting every last drop of arousal. And she actually _could_ get every last drop, since I wasn’t multi-orgasmic. I’d need a while to recover from this, which meant Missy could lick my pussy clean without me making more since a cute girl was licking me.  
  
It only took a few minutes before Missy leaned back. Her face was a sight to behold. Translucent streaks of cum covered the lower half of her face, especially around her lips. She was breathing heavily, slight shoulders trembling a bit. I wondered how turned on she had gotten from eating me out. Well, I’d let her keep any shameful arousal she was feeling a secret, even if she wanted me to expose her.  
  
Lifting one leg over her head, I brought them together, hiding my pussy from her. I felt good, nice and relaxed. All the tension that had been built up over the day just flowed out of me, leaving behind some nice pink clouds.  
  
Still, I couldn’t just sit here forever. I slowly sat up, not seeing a reason to move quickly. I looked down at Missy. The small girl looked pretty sexy, with my femcum drying on her face.  
  
“Now that you’ve cleaned me up, do the same for yourself,” I said, handing her a towel.  
  
Missy’s eyes focused on me, coming back from whatever internal picture she had been watching. She still looked a bit confused, so I repeated myself, dangling the towel in front of her face.  
  
“Oh, yes, right! Sorry, Ski- ma’am. Spaced out there for a minute.”  
  
She took the towel and started wiping her face clean. As she cleaned herself up, I grabbed my own costume and started getting dressed. That took long enough that by the time I had fastened the belt around my waist, Missy, still naked, had gone back over to clean up the broken vase.  
  
It really was amazing that Missy hadn’t tried to get dressed yet. The exhibitionistic streak she had must be a mile wide to prance her naked body around like this in front someone she barely knew. It was hot, but I wasn’t in the mood for more sex. Right now, at least. Later…  
  
I called Missy back in front of me. She really did look amazing in the frilly headdress and stockings. But I could think of a few ways to make her look even better. And there shouldn’t be a problem getting Parian to help me out with the designs.  
  
I looked down at Missy and smiled. She had an eager-to-please expression on her face as she looked back at me. I looked down a bit further. It seemed she had a certain level of appreciation for me watching her naked body. I could see a hint of arousal between her thighs.  
  
“Good girl,” I said, smiling at her. “You’ve been a perfect maid tonight.”  
  
She preened underneath the compliment, tilting her head to one side coquettishly. It was enough to make me laugh.  
  
“Come back tomorrow,” I said. “We can talk about pay and your uniform then.”  
  
Missy opened her mouth, looked thoughtful, and then closed it again. She nodded firmly, and started picking up her costume. As I watched her get dressed, I smiled.  
  
A maid would be just the thing I needed.

* * *

  



	3. Chapter 3

  
“Down the hall, second door on your left,” Skitter told me. A butterfly came out of nowhere to hover over my hand. My guide, presumably, as if I could get lost doing something so simple.  
  
“Right! I’ll get right on it,” I said regardless, glad for the chance to get out of here and calm myself down.  
  
I quickly walked out of the room, heart pounding in my chest. What if Skitter called me back, deciding that I needed some proper punishment for breaking that stupid vase of flowers? I’d probably go back, that was what would happen. And let her do whatever came into her head as a punishment.  
  
Shaking myself, I opened the cleaning closet and got the broom and dustpan. It was only when the broom handle brushed against me that I realized something. Then I had to look down to confirm it.  
  
Yep, I was naked alright. I had just left Skitter’s office or lair or whatever, completely, utterly, stark naked. And had pranced down a hallway without a care, in a building full of Skitter’s people. I.e., a bunch of hardened criminals who wouldn’t take no for an answer. What on Earth had I been _thinking_?  
  
And now I would have to do it all over again. Suddenly the twenty feet or so of corridor seemed like a million miles. And the only way- Wait! There was another way!  
  
The butterfly Skitter had given me was perched on my right hand. Lifting it up to my mouth, I whispered to it.  
  
“Please, Skitter, boss, come and get me! Bring some clothes, or a blanket, anything!”  
  
I felt silly, talking to a bug. But, hey if it worked, it wasn’t silly.  
  
Sadly, it didn’t, so I was very silly. Skitter didn’t come to my rescue (and god, I hated the thought of Vista getting rescued by Skitter). I wasn’t sure why. Did butterflies not have the ears to hear human’s speaking? Or did Skitter find this too funny to stop before I had to run back to her, still naked? There wasn’t any way to tell.  
  
And I couldn’t even use my power to get there quicker. That would just be screaming out who I was, thanks to Skitter’s butterfly. I’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. And my odds weren’t getting better with time.  
  
Peeking out the closet door, I confirmed nobody was around. Getting a firm grip on the cleaning tools in my sweaty hands, I fucking _booked it_ back to the relative safety of Skitter’s room. And hoped that Skitter was still the only person in there.  
  
Thankfully, the trip was too short for me to be able to really dwell on what it felt like to be naked where strangers could see me. I just had time to register the cool air brushing over my bare skin and I was back in front of the door to safety. And the churning in my stomach was entirely due to nervousness, or maybe after-effects of my anal orgasm. Absolutely nothing else.  
  
I stepped inside, sighing in relief over my narrow escape. Then I saw what had changed inside the room and realized my earlier thought had been _way_ too premature.  
  
Skitter was lounging around on the loveseat, completely naked. There wasn’t a stich of clothing on her, and she wasn’t even trying to cover herself. I could see her breasts, her stomach, even her crotch! Every little bit was exposed to me.  
  
And I liked it. Oh, how I liked it. I licked my lips, realizing what I was doing, but unable to stop myself. I ran my eyes over Skitter’s trim, slim form, distantly aware that she was doing the same to me. I had always daydreamed about slender partners, with the bustiness of Glory Girl or the bulk of Aegis never really interesting me.  
  
I could feel myself getting wet again, so soon after my last orgasm (and an anal orgasm, at that). But who could blame me? Skitter was way hotter than someone with her costume should be. It was a crime to hide that pale skin underneath a hideous array of grey and black.  
  
“Get over here and clean up your mess,” Skitter ordered.  
  
She even ran her hands along her body, right down to her crotch. There was no way to mistake what was about to happen. Oh god, was this really happening? It _was_. And I was starting to think I liked it. And after all, not only was I Skitter’s maid (I internally rolled my eyes at that ridiculous justification), but she had made me feel good. So I should do the same for her.  
  
“Ye-yes!” I said, agreeing much too quickly. And, ugh, I had even stammered. _Get it together, Vista!_  
  
I took unsteady steps forward, barely remembering to shut the door behind me as I started. The broom dropped to the floor with a rattle as cleaning up the mess left my thoughts utterly. After all, what kind of maid would waste time cleaning when she could be licking at her employer’s slit?  
  
Something else I had forgotten about was that my maid costume was still on the floor in front of me. I almost tripped, but managed, just in time, to recover, taking a couple too-long steps as I fought for balance. Thankfully, I arrived at Skitter’s side safe and sound.  
  
And then I was on my knees, between _her_ knees. And what a spot it was to be. I got an excellent view of Skitter’s pussy. It looked damp. I blushed. Had that really happened because of me? It was nice to think so. Her hand landing on my head stopped any further thoughts about that. Her fingers dug into my blonde hair.  
  
“Come on, give it a kiss,” Skitter whispered.  
  
I obeyed, of course. How couldn’t I? This was so hot. So wrong, but so hot. Being forced to serve as a supervillain’s object of lust, far away from my friends or anyone who could or would help me… I wondered if Skitter would be okay with me masturbating while I serviced her.  
  
Or maybe I shouldn’t. After all, I had never eaten out another girl before, and I should concentrate to make sure I didn’t mess up. And I could get a bit lost in… thought while I was masturbating. If my room didn’t have a lock on it… Living dangerously, on and off the streets. That was me.  
  
While I thought about that, my body leaned in, pressing my lips against Skitter’s pussy. Skitter made a soft sound as I felt the heat of another person’s body against mine. And another person’s wetness. Skitter’s arousal was smeared across my lips. Before I could stop myself, my tongue had darted out and licked them, sliding in between my face and Skitter’s crotch.  
  
It was a funny taste, one that I had never really experienced before. Kind of salty, and kind of slimy, but mostly it was just odd. Not bad, merely weird. I supposed I would have a chance to taste a lot more of it soon.  
  
I started licking Skitter, instead of my own lips. I was surprised at how deep inside her I could stick my tongue. It wasn’t something I had ever really thought about, but I could get it a good two to three inches inside her.  
  
And Skitter approved of that quite heavily. She hissed through her teeth as I ran my tongue up and down her parted lips.  
  
“Good girl,” Skitter said, her voice wavering a bit in the middle. “Just keep on licking.” There was a short pause, just long enough for me to gingerly do another lick. “I don’t want to see a single speck left when you’re done.”  
  
I rolled my eyes, hoping against hope that Skitter’s boobs were too big for her to see me do so. Miraculously, she either indeed didn’t see me or didn’t care enough to comment. Still, I told myself not to press my luck.  
  
Also, I kept on licking. My hands were resting on my knees, which were tightly pressed together. I could feel the heat and the tightness returning to my lower gut, so soon after my orgasm. And it didn’t take a genius to see why. It was _hot_ knowing that I, Vista, was giving oral sex to the city’s lead supervillain, while I was dressed in the remains of a maid costume.  
  
Skitter seemed to find the whole thing even hotter than I did. And since she was a supervillain, she presumably didn’t feel the shame that making a counterpoint inside me to the arousal. At any rate, she was grinding her hips against my face, making her arousal spread across more and more of my skin.  
  
It was nice to know that Skitter was enjoying herself, because I was guessing I wasn’t very good at oral sex. The way I drew my teeth along her clit (twice!) was a pretty good clue. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything about it, though she did wince.  
  
It wasn’t enough to stop Skitter from keeping my face pressed against her crotch, though. Or to stop her from getting more and more aroused. I was swallowing a lot of her arousal, feeling it slide down my throat and into my stomach.  
  
I was still taken by surprise when she came. If there were real warning sings, I didn’t recognize them. One minute my face was buried in Skitter’s snatch, tongue working away, and the next, my face was getting absolutely covered with femcum.  
  
I coughed in surprise, feeling Skitter’s arousal get spread all over my face. But I’d been trained on how to keep going even when surprised, and I did so now. Not a situation I ever would have expected to use that training in, but it still helped.  
  
Even as Skitter shook above me in orgasm, I kept on licking between her legs. She’d told me to get every last drop, and, somehow, it just felt right to obey her orders. And since I had already gotten so much of her honey on my face and tongue, it didn’t take all that long to get the rest of it cleaned up.  
  
Skitter lifted her leg from behind my head, letting me draw back. I did so, resting on my heels. I knew I must look like a mess. I could feel her arousal all over my face, slowly drying. God, I was turned on, but it just didn’t seem right to masturbate right now. Or to ask Skitter to do so for me.  
  
I realized Skitter was talking, but had been too distracted to notice. I only started paying attention after she was done. She repeated herself, sounding a bit sharper this time around.  
  
“Now that you’ve cleaned me up, do the same for yourself,” Skitter said, waving a towel in front of me. It took a few jiggles before I really focused on it.  
  
“Oh, yes, right! Sorry, Ski- ma’am. Spaced out there for a minute.”  
  
Thankfully, Skitter’s face remained calm, instead of twisting in the sneer I would have expected to see on a villain’s face. A red blush on my face, I grabbed the towel and buried my face in it. I quickly got myself clean, but kept it pressed against my face for a bit longer, trying to get control of myself. I was Vista, long-time superhero. Not some blushing virgin. Even if I technically was a virgin. And blushing.  
  
“Good girl,” Skitter said, a weird smile on her face. “You’ve been a perfect maid tonight.”  
  
Despite the condescending choice of words, I still flushed happily. It was nice to get honest praise, even if it was from a supervillain as thanks for eating her out and not complaining as she had spanked me and fucked me to orgasm with a toy in my ass.  
  
“Come back tomorrow,” Skitter added. “We can talk about pay and your uniform then.”  
  
“Pay? Uniform?” I squeaked. This was going to be a long-term thing?  
  
The instant that thought entered my head, the possible advantages of it followed. The good guys could really benefit from having an insider watching over Skitter’s operations. And given that I would be Skitter’s maid/sex release, I should have easy access to any paperwork she had.  
  
That I would also be Skitter’s sexual servant was also a big part of the idea’s appeal. Not that I would be bringing _that_ up when I would try and sell this idea to the Director and Miss Militia. Also, I wasn’t certain how I would be selling any of this to anybody, since there’d be some hard to answer questions about why I had went to a party hosted by a supervillain without telling anyone.  
  
Those thoughts passed through my head in a flash. I nodded, aware that Skitter was still watching me. She seemed satisfied with that, as I started to gather my costume from all the many places it had ended up.  
  
It felt weird, getting dressed underneath the watchful eyes of somebody else. But I had already gone streaking once tonight, and I wasn’t going to press my luck by doing so again. God, the thought of what could happen if somebody saw me was majorly embarrassing.  
  
Walking home that night, my thoughts and emotions were a blur. Part of me still couldn’t believe everything that had happened, or how good it had felt. Or that the reasons it had felt good didn’t entirely revolve around the in-and-out stimulation of my body. Wearing a maid costume for somebody else, being ordered to eat them out, hell, just generally being ordered around, those had all been twistedly fun.  
  
But I couldn’t ignore the very real dangers of what I was getting into. Sure, Skitter had been nice enough, but her file was full of mentions on how her attitude could turn on a dime. And even if she was a lot nicer and stable than I thought she really was, I would still be spying on her, using my position to inform the cops. That wasn’t the kind of thing that endeared me to people.  
  
Also, there was the problem of carrying on a relationship with a supervillain. Especially since it was as a boss and her servant. The closest comparison I could come up with was Flechette and Parian, and look at where Lily was now. I _liked_ being a hero, helping people and doing good in the world. I didn’t want to give that up, even if I would have more of a career as Skitter’s maid than I would in the Wards as one of the heroines who had all but bent the knee to the Undersiders.  
  
I hadn’t come anywhere near making a decision by the time I got home. I spent a long, sleepless night with the same set of thoughts chasing each other, even as their coherency degraded as I got more and more fatigued. The fact that I was still turned on wasn’t helping. At least I could solve that problem, and not by taking a cold shower. Turning on my laptop, I decided to see what there was in the areas of maids, young girls, lesbians and bondage.  
  
*******  
The next afternoon, I was standing in front of Skitter again. This time, I was wearing something a lot more sensible than a maid costume, which I had returned to the rental place anyway (after giving it a thorough washing.) I still looked cute in my blouse and skirt, and had seen Skitter checking out my bare legs.  
  
“Welcome back, Missy,” Skitter said. “I wasn’t certain if you’d be coming.”  
  
Skitter was wearing her full costume, her face hidden underneath a mask and far too many bugs. I couldn’t even see her eye through the yellow lenses she had. It was quite a change from what I had seen yesterday, though it was the Skitter I was familiar with from the Ward briefings.  
  
I felt a mental pang at that word. I had talked to Miss Militia and the Deputy Director about what I had done last night. Or, at least, a heavily altered version of what I had done. No sex, I hadn’t been in the same room as booze and drugs, and had generally behaved as a Ward should.  
  
Had still gotten a chewing out for going to the party without even telling anyone, let alone bringing backup. But I’d still been giving permission to come back to Skitter, along with an emergency beacon. And firm orders about what I would do if I was asked to do something illegal, and the professional and legal consequences if I actually did anything illegal. Also, I was somewhat aware that Skitter had started her career out by going undercover. Sure, I was doing this with the full knowledge of my superiors, but the parallels were still pretty uncomfortable.  
  
Worrying stuff, which had only added to my concerns about being here in front of Skitter. What was she planning to do to me? Would she take ‘no’ for an answer?  
  
All that stuff was whizzing through my head. What I actually _said_ was…  
  
“Hi, Skitter. Miss Skitter. And yes, I’m back. I’m going to be your maid.”  
  
My nervousness was mostly real. Even if I couldn’t share with her every reason I was nervous. And she seemed to buy it.  
  
Skitter tilted her head to one side and leaned back in the chair she was in. She clasped her hands together in front of her face in the classic mastermind pose. It was hard to tell with all the bugs crawling over her, but she seemed happy.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that, Missy. And we haven’t even discussed your wage yet.”  
  
“Um. About that.” I looked to one side and clutched my arm. How to go about this? “There’s some things I’m not going to do, ma’am. No matter what.”  
  
“Really?” Skitter said, putting her hand to her cheek as if she was some high society lady who’d just been told something surprising. “You aren’t just willing to sign on the dotted line without reading the fine print?” Irony laced every word. “And here I was, with an appointment with Parian to make your new costume.”  
  
I smiled, but my heart wasn’t it. I _really_ didn’t want to meet Parian. Not if that meant meeting Fle-Foil. The turncoat would recognize me instantly, since my Vista costume did nothing to alter my voice.  
  
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”  
  
“Don’t apologize,” Skitter said dismissively. “I’d have been worried if you didn’t have any reservations about all this.” She leaned forward. I could feel her eyes on me, even behind the lenses. “What are they?”  
  
Well, this was embarrassing, and potentially more than embarrassing to admit, but I had to say it. Intently studying the wood floor of the room we were in, I started talking.  
  
“I’m going to need a maid costume. Ma’am. Last night was a rental, and I had to return it today.”  
  
That actually got a laugh out of Skitter. I glanced up, my cheeks burning red, to see her sitting back in her chair, resting her hands on her stomach and giggling. After a few seconds, she got control over herself and looked at me.  
  
“Looks like I’ll be setting up that appointment after all.” I didn’t keep my face totally clear, and Skitter must have seen the worry about meeting Foil. Luckily, she misinterpreted it. “Don’t worry, it won’t cost you a dime. And I’m sure Parian will leave you looking fabulous.” Right. _That_ was what I wanted. “What else are you worried about?”  
  
“Also, uh,” I paused, not sure how best to say this. “I want a safeword. If things are getting too intense, and I need to step back a bit, I want a way to make sure you hear it.” I had done a _lot_ of research last night after accepting that I wasn’t going to get to sleep.  
  
“That makes sense,” Skitter said, nodding. “What would it be?”  
  
“I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders for the last sentence.  
  
“Let me know when you decide on one,” Skitter said nonchalantly. “You don’t need one right away.”  
  
“Now, I’m not expecting much from you.” I stiffened, insulted. Words barely better put had been dogging me my entire career in the Wards, from people who couldn’t see past my age.  
  
This time, if Skitter saw how that affected me, she didn’t comment. Instead, she held out her finger, using it to punctate her words.  
  
“You’re going to have a maid costume, and you’ll be doing maid work. Nothing too strenuous, just doing some light dusting or bringing me food.”  
  
I had a good idea that any dusting I did would include rules about not being allowed to bend at the knees, and only the waist. And that if I needed to take care of anything high up, Skitter would insist on holding on to me to make sure I stayed steady. Even though you couldn’t support someone by grabbing their butt.  
  
“Then there’s your other duties.” The emphasis she put on that word made it crystal clear what she meant by that. “Just like I said last night, your virginity’s safe. I won’t ever touch your pussy unless you ask me to.” My face was heating, and I thought Skitter’s might be as well. “Your rear, on the other hand… Well, I’ll need someway to motivate you, won’t I?”  
  
If I could have seen Skitter’s face right now, I was sure I’d have seen a light blush and a wide, embarrassed smile. I was smiling too, out of embarrassment. And a bit of arousal. I could remember so very vividly what it had felt like to have my rear played with like that. Played with _and_ punished. Both of them had felt pretty good.  
  
“That sounds fine, ma’am,” I said. And that wasn’t a lie. “But, uh, I’m not doing anything with anybody else. It’s you or nobody. If that’s okay!” I said hurriedly, without thinking as she leaned back in her chair. Then I cursed myself for the disgusting display.  
  
“Why would I want to share my own, personal maid with anyone else?” Skitter asked, leaning forward and extending her arm. We were just barely close enough that she could brush her clawed fingertips against my chin. “I won’t, I can promise you that. Punishment or reward, they’ll both come from me and only me.”  
  
I nodded, relieved. Everything was going well, even if my stomach was still churning in anxiety. And I probably would be really nervous for quite a while. I was throwing myself into the deep end of the pool.  
  
“Am I getting paid for this?” I asked. “Also, I do have school.”  
  
“At least until the next disaster levels it,” Skitter mumbled under her breath. I agreed with her, but school was still a good excuse to still be Vista. “Yes, of course. I suppose I can only get you one day a week or so, if you want any time to yourself.”  
  
“As for pay,” she once again clasped her hands in front of her chest, “I think $500 a week should be enough, don’t you?”  
  
I choked, almost doubling over at that. $500 a week? $2000 a month? Christ, I knew that villains tended to spend money like water, but this was ridiculous! Also, it was being offered to _me_ , not to some drug dealer, so it was for a good cause.  
  
Aware of how quickly my morals crumbled, I nodded my head quickly, maybe showing a bit more eagerness than I really felt. After all, as a Ward, I was pulling down a salary. 90% of which was locked away until I turned eighteen, but still. But since I was just Missy, I better act even more shocked over such an amount of money than I was.  
  
“Yes! Yes, yes, that’s very fine!” I said.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Skitter said. “Now, do you have anywhere to be soon, or do you have the time for a more… in-depth lecture?”  
  
I guilty smiled and nodded my head. I had plenty of time for what she was planning. Not only was I helping the cause of law and justice, it looked like I was going to be having some fun, too.  
  
And hey, after everything I’d given to the city, why not have some fun for myself?

*******

Behind my mask, I smiled. Missy was just too cute! Her blonde hair framed her adorable face in a way that made me want to eat her up. Not that I could, since I had promised to not touch her pussy. Although I was already having some thoughts along those lines. Like how hard it would be to find a chastity belt that fit her. After all, if she was locked away, with a third party having the key, there was no way my lust could override my sense of right and wrong. Surely. And as my servant she had to do what I said. Of course. Just like how I obediently followed everything Coil said with no questions or qualms.  
  
Ignoring any thoughts about where having a girl even younger than me as a maid/sex relief was on the scale of right and wrong, I continued on. I’d done a lot of thinking last night after Missy left, and had come up with a lot of things to do to her. And, obviously, so had she. We had settled most of the questions, and the biggest one remaining was how cute she would look in her new maid costume.  
  
I had to admit, I felt like I was getting a lot more than just sex out of all of this. Having Missy around seemed… _pleasing_ , in a way I really couldn’t define. And in a totally different way than Sierra and Charlotte, who were also female minions. Was it because I was having sex with Missy and not them? Or was it that I had some kind of maid fetish I had never really examined before?  
  
And I had to admit, the sex was surprisingly good. Who could have thought that someone Missy’s age would be so good at eating out another girl? Okay, maybe my standards for that were non-existent since I had never had any kind of oral sex before, but I _had_ cum. That meant the sex had to be good, right?  
  
Either way, I thought Missy and I would be having a wonderful time together with her as my maid. I would just need to make sure to keep her away from the business of running my portion of the city. After all, someone her age was much too young to get involved with parahumans. Unlike me, at seventeen.  
  
Someone as innocent and vulnerable as her needed to be protected, after all.


	4. Sisterly Discipline

  
“What. The Hell. Victoria?”  
  
Amy ground the words out through clenched teeth. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this angry. She stood up, carefully stepping out of the way of the blood splatters. She glared at Victoria, as if she could summon up all her anger with her sister into a lightning strike.  
  
“What?” Victoria demanded, spreading her hands. Her emotional aura beat down on Amy, full of aggrieved hurt. “Yeah, things could have been bad with him.” Victoria nodded towards the unconscious Merchant lying behind Amy. “But you were here, sis. There’s nothing wrong with him now. He’s going to be alright.”  
  
“Yeah, and if I hadn’t been here,” Amy said, jabbing her finger into her sister’s stomach, and feeling it slide off her forcefield, “he would have _died_. Do you want that? The death of some guy who was running away from you?”  
  
“Of course not, Amy,” Victoria said, her blonde eyebrows nettling. “And I’m not going to have to worry about it either. Because you _saved him_.”  
  
“Yeah, this time!” Amy said, throwing her hands up in the air. “But I’m not your Siamese twin, Glory Girl! One of these days I’m going to be somewhere else and you’re going to kill someone!”  
  
The headlights of a passing car briefly illuminated them. Victoria glanced out the entrance of the alleyway and took a deep breath. Turning her head back to Amy, she gave her adopted sister a waxen grimace of a smile.  
  
“Come on, let’s not do this here.” Her smile this time was a bit more genuine. “Let’s go to the park so we can scream at each other there.” She held her arms out in an invitation for Amy to step into them.  
  
Amy did so, though her expression still could have curdled milk. Wrapping her in a tight hug, Glory Girl took off into the night sky, leaving behind the twitching Merchant as he slowly recovered. And the dented dumpster he had been thrown into, which wasn’t recovering.  
  
It took less than a minute for Glory Girl to arrive at Legion park, which was deserted at this time of night. Settling down in front of the gazebo, Glory Girl opened her arms, letting her sister step out of her embrace. Amy immediately did so, and whirled around on Glory Girl.  
  
“I’m still mad at you, Victoria,” Amy said, ignoring the look of disappointment that flashed across Glory Girl’s face. “This is what, the third time in two months?”  
  
“No, it’s the third time in about four dozen patrols,” Victoria replied, crossing her arms underneath her chest. “You think Legend or Alexandria never end up hurting people in that amount of time?”  
  
“They’re-“ Amy broke off, rubbing her forehead. “I’m just not getting through to you, am I? I’m going to need to do something else.”  
  
“What, like tell Mom?” Victoria asked, a hint of alarm entering her voice. “Amy, there’s really no need-!”  
  
Drawing on her self-defense lessons for the first time ever, Amy smoothly stepped around her sister, turning so she was facing Victoria’s back. Even as Victoria started to turn around to face her, Amy grabbed her sister’s shoulder and side and pulled. With a squawk and a tangle of limbs, Amy ended up sitting on the gazebo steps, with Victoria bent over her lap.  
  
“Amy, what the hell are you doing?” Victoria asked in an outraged voice. She tried to get up, but Amy pressed down on the small of her back with her arm.  
  
Amy knew her sister could break out of this in an instant, but she couldn’t do so without hurting Amy, at least a little bit. And neither of the sisters wanted to ever hurt each other. Even with outraged shock beating down on Amy’s mind from Victoria’s emotional aura.  
  
“If I can’t get you to behave one way, then I’m going to have to try another,” Amy said. “I can still remember that when Mom spanked you, you behaved better afterwards. I don’t like doing this,” a complete and utter lie, “but if it’s the only way to get you to act like the hero you’re supposed to be, it’s going to have to work.”  
  
“You’re going to what?!” Victoria shrieked, wiggling more. “Amy, what the hell are you thinking?”  
  
As Victoria lambasted her, Amy raised her sister’s skirt. Underneath it, she saw Victoria’s black spats, tightly hugging her curves. Should she pull those down too, or leave them? Amy decided they were thin enough that Victoria should still feel the full impact of every blow. And Amy didn’t want to push her luck too far. A bare bottom spanking could come later.  
  
“This is for your own good, Victoria,” Amy said as she raised her hand.  
  
Amy swung her hand down with all the force she could muster. It wasn’t much, and even if she had been ten times as strong, it would have just bounced off Glory Girl’s forcefield. Which was why Amy’s other hand had slipped underneath Victoria’s blouse to rest on her bare skin. Amy slowly, gently pressed down, feeling the very weird sensation of her fingers sliding through Victoria’s forcefield and onto her skin. The feeling of warmth and strength there was distracting, but not enough to keep Amy from doing what needed to be done.  
  
Amy couldn’t begin to explain why Victoria’s power let soft, slow touches through while blocking blows, but it did. Therefore, by the time Amy’s hand bounced off of Glory Girl’s personal forcefield, the hand Amy had on her back was totally in tune with Victoria’s body. And that meant Victoria acted like she had been a spanked, a blossom of pain appearing on her well-defined ass.  
  
“Gah! Amy, what the hell- How are you doing- ouch!”  
  
Victoria yipped again as Amy directed her hand back down onto her sister’s rear. Her palm slid off the forcefield, her strength not enough to even make it break for even a fraction of the second. But Victoria felt like another blow from Amy’s palm had landed on her rear. And she reacted appropriately.  
  
And to Amy’s lasting delight, that meant Victoria Dallon, Glory Girl, felt a bit of pleasure. That wasn’t even something Amy had done. She was just making her sister feel the appropriate amount of pain from getting spanked. The spark of pleasure that lingered after each blow was entirely Victoria’s doing.  
  
Who could have guessed that Amy’s sister was a machoist? A kinky girl who got off on getting spanked? Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair to Victoria. While her pussy was wet, and getting wetter, Amy couldn’t tell yet if Victoria was going to cum solely and only from getting spanked. It was entirely possible that by the time Amy finished, Victoria would be horribly turned on, and yet, nowhere close to her orgasm.  
  
Honestly, part of Amy thought that could be good. Maybe Victoria would be so hopelessly aroused that she would masturbate right in front of Amy. Right here in the deserted park, where, theoretically, anybody could see her. That would be lovely to see, especially since Amy had no idea how Victoria masturbated. She had never once managed to see or hear her sister touching herself.  
  
Shaking her head, Amy did her best to dismiss her fantasies. If Vicky didn’t cum from getting spanked, then she didn’t cum. It was something to be dealt with later. Just like Amy’s own wet, clinging panties. Right now, she needed to focus on getting the message through to her sister about how a heroine was supposed to behave.  
  
“Victoria, I don’t like doing this,” Amy lied as she spanked her sister’s upturned ass again and again. “But there are certain ways a hero has to act, and you haven’t been doing them. So I have to get this through to you, one way or another.”  
  
Feeling justified in her actions, Amy kept on spanking Victoria, her hand making a funny sound as it bounced off the forcefield again and again. Amy was starting to wish she had gotten a leather belt or something to use. It _hurt_ to have her hand bounce off of her sister’s forcefield, and Amy was the one person in the world Panacea couldn’t heal.  
  
“Amy, goddamnit, you, ah, let go of me!” Victoria demanded, her voice rising on the last note as Amy spanked her again. And exercised her power again to make the pain appear in Victoria’s rear.  
  
“Victoria, I’m trying to help you,” Amy said. And it was even mostly true, though Amy had a few other motivations for what she was doing. “Can’t you understand that?”  
  
“No!” Victoria shot back. “You’re fucking spanking me like I’m some kid!”  
  
Amy glanced down at Victoria’s crotch. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but she thought that Victoria’s shorts were sticking to her a bit more tightly than when they had started. Amy didn’t think some kid would get turned on from getting spanked.  
  
And Amy could tell that Victoria was _very_ turned on. She had a complete overview of her sister’s body, and could tell that Glory Girl’s nipples were pressing into her bra. And that with every blow of Amy’s hand, Victoria got that much wetter.  
  
Honestly, Amy didn’t need her complete overview of Victoria’s biology to tell that. She could have guessed that her sister was far less upset than she acted just by the emotional aura. Amy knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of an upset Victoria, radiating enough righteous fury to drive somebody to their knees. And that wasn’t happening now. Instead, Victoria’s aura was a new one to Amy, with a mix of emotions she hadn’t felt in her sister before.  
  
Part of it had to be arousal, though it was hard to distinguish between the lust Victoria was radiating and what Amy would have felt all on her own. There was also shame and just the tiniest hint of anger. It was a really interesting mix of emotions, and Amy wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that there were one or two others in the mix she had missed.  
  
It was nice to get a second confirmation on how much Victoria was actually enjoying this, even if she couldn’t and wouldn’t say so. Amy knew she was doing the right thing, and Victoria’s aura and biology were all the confirmations she needed. Still, Amy shouldn’t spend her time here basking in her own glory. She had a sister to help teach discipline to.  
  
Shaking her head to clear it, Amy lifted her gaze from her sister’s rear to her head. Victoria had turned her head to glare up at her sister, though the red cheek Amy could see detracted from the effect. Translating the biochemical signals Amy was getting into emotions was harder than seeing if someone was turned on. But Amy could still do it. And she could tell that her sister was feeling a mix of lust, anger and embarrassment. And with every spank, Victoria’s lust got larger, and her anger was more hollowed out.  
  
“Come on, Amy, let me go. Enough is enough.”  
  
There was a note of pleading in Victoria’s voice now. Of course, she could _make_ Amy let go of her in a single second, with her strength and ability to fly. But she hadn’t. And Amy didn’t even need her ability to look into Victoria’s brain to tell that her sister didn’t actually mean what she had said.  
  
“Not yet,” Amy replied. “Not until your punishment is over.” And that would be fairly soon, since Amy’s hand felt like it had been lit on fire. “Once I’m sure you’re going to be a good girl, I’ll let you up.”  
  
“Fine, I’ll be a good girl,” Victoria said quickly, rolling her eyes.  
  
“I don’t quite believe you,” Amy replied dryly, making Victoria huff in disappointment. And then moan as Amy landed another blow on Victoria’s beautiful backside. Her head feel down, looking away from Amy.  
  
Amy thought it was a pity that she couldn’t actually touch Victoria’s ass. For so many reasons, of course. But right now the main one was that she didn’t get to see her sister’s ass wiggle and jiggle underneath each blow. Instead, they stayed those perfect curves, untouched by anything Amy did. It would be so amazing to see them bounce with each blow, but Amy just couldn’t see a way for that to happen.  
  
Also, if Amy had actually been spanking Victoria’s butt, that would mean she would get to see Glory Girl’s cheeks redden. But Amy didn’t think she could manage to get Victoria’s shorts off of her, setting aside the problem of Victoria not actually getting a spanking. But it was still something nice to think about. And Amy was sure she would be thinking about that in some detail as soon as she got some privacy. Thinking about it in a whole lot of detail.  
  
This time, Amy brought her hand down very softly. She caressed the firm curves of Victoria’s ass. Her sister twitched underneath her, turning her head as much as she could to look at her. The sight of red cheeks and tears collecting in the corners of her eyes sent a thrill through Amy. That was a sight she would never forget.  
  
“Victoria, I’m not doing this because I enjoy hurting you,” Amy said, lying through her teeth. “It’s because I can’t think of any better way to get through to you. You need to get better control over yourself, don’t you understand that?”  
  
“Ah, ha, ha,” Victoria panted. Amy just wanted to reach down and pinch those cute cheeks. “Come on, Amy, I’m totally in control of myself. So stop this and let me go.”  
  
“Let you go?” Amy asked, moving her hand off of Victoria’s ass and running it down her shorts. “Why would I, when you’re enjoying your lesson so much?” She pressed forward, smiling slightly as she felt the slick, damp fabric of Victoria’s shorts press against her wet pussy. “You’re obviously taking this to heart, so I just need a bit more time to make sure you properly understand what I’m trying to tell you.”  
  
“Ah, ah, no, Amy, don’t touch me there,” Victoria said, almost pleaded. “We’re sisters, you shouldn’t be- oh!”  
  
Chuckling, Amy withdrew her finger. Her hand was feeling a bit less sore now, so she could start spanking Victoria again. And she was curious to see if she really could make Glory Girl cum just by getting spanked. As fun as it had been to feel the shorts squish and slide around, made slick by Victoria’s arousal, Amy knew she could very easily get so lost in fingering her sister that she would accidently make her cum.  
  
Raising her hand back up above her head, Amy stared down at Victoria’s ass. Her other hand, pressed against Victoria’s bare skin, told her just how turned on Glory Girl was, in far more detail than the wetness of her shorts ever could. Was this the true Victoria Dallon, Amy wondered? A depraved girl, who got off on being punished? If so, then that was a need Amy was more than willing to fulfill. After all, Victoria was her sister. What kind of sibling wouldn’t want to help out their sister?  
  
Reassured that she was doing the right thing, Amy swung her hand down again. As she did so, she took a closer look at Victoria’s arousal. She hoped her sister managed to cum from getting punished soon. This was hell on her hand.  
  
And it was pure bliss for another part of Amy’s body. She was getting _really_ turned on, not helped by how close Victoria’s body was to her crotch. Even though it was really late, Amy knew she would be staying up even later to have one hell of a masturbation session once they got home.  
  
Victoria was more turned on, though. Amy wasn’t certain exactly how close she was to orgasm, since this wasn’t a situation she had ever encountered before. But she thought, and hoped, it wouldn’t take too much more to make Victoria… realize what a bad girl she had been, and try to be better in the future.  
  
Amy’s lips briefly quirked upward in a small smile at that. Then she gave Victoria three more swift swats, wincing as red tendrils of pain crawled up her arm. Part of her really hoped Victoria learned her lesson from this, so Amy wouldn’t have to do it ever again. The other part of her made a note to start wearing a belt.  
  
Amy did her best to focus on the beautiful blonde girl bent over on her lap instead of her stinging hand. A bit of pain was worth it if it helped out Victoria, Amy told herself. After all, she was helping make her sister a better person. That was worth going through a bit of discomfort on her end.  
  
Assured of the correctness of her own actions, Amy nodded decisively. It was only right and just that she punish Victoria now to stop something worse from happening in the future. It all made perfect sense.  
  
And Victoria was responding so well to the discipline she needed. Amy was even starting to smell her sister’s arousal, a faint scent just barely making itself known as Victoria got wetter and wetter with every spank. Amy could tell just as well as Victoria how turned on her sister was. And how much pain she was in. Though only Victoria would know how closely those two were wrapped around each other. Still, Victoria was drawing pleasure from the pain, and Amy thought her sister was only a few seconds away from orgasm.  
  
And being a good sister, Amy helped push her sister over the edge. One last slap was combined with the stimulation of pain in Victoria’s bottom. And it was enough. Amy had never been touching somebody who was having an orgasm before, but she could still recognize it when it happened. She gratefully let her stinging hand fall as she watched her sister cum.  
  
“Oh God. Oh God, oh yes, yes, yesyesyes!”  
  
Victoria started screaming as she came. Amy watched, entranced, as her sister’s black spats suddenly darkened even further, stained with Victoria’s arousal. She was distantly aware that her sister was being loud enough that, even at this time of night, somebody might come to see what was happening. But Amy couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when she got to see what Victoria in the throes of orgasm looked like.  
  
And Victoria looked like she was having a _very_ good orgasm. It went on and on, her sister twisting and writhing as her words degenerated into sobs of relief as she just kept on cumming. Amy was in shock. _She_ had never cum this hard or this long. Neither had any of the girls in the videos she watched online. This couldn’t be normal, could it?  
  
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou…” Victoria repeated, tripping over her words as she gradually quieted down.  
  
Finally, Victoria settled down. It was a gradual process, her shaking slowing down, to be replaced with a boneless limpness. She was sprawled over Amy’s lap, hands resting on the ground as she slowly breathed in and out.  
  
Amy wasn’t sure what to do. Shaking Victoria’s shoulder and calling her name didn’t get a response. Considering her options, Amy looked down at Victoria’s rear again. Victoria’s shorts were soaked with her arousal. They were more than soaked. There was arousal running down the outside of them. Amy didn’t think the smell would ever come out of them no matter how many times they went through the wash. Well, that was something she could take care of at least.  
  
Hooking her fingers underneath the shorts, Amy slowly peeled them off of Victoria. Her eyes hungrily noted every bit of skin that was revealed. The most obvious thing was Victoria’s ass. Those, pale, perfect cheeks were just as lovely as bare naked as they had been in the skimpy bikini Victoria wore. Amy highly approved.  
  
Her position wasn’t the best to see her sister’s pussy, though removing the shorts did let Amy get a whiff of how turned on Victoria had been. Amy debated with herself about whether she should spread Victoria’s legs to get a better look or not. No, better wait until there was a better source of light for this, Amy told herself, desperately hoping that there would be a time when she could see Victoria’s pussy underneath some excellent lighting.  
  
Tossing the shorts away, Amy nodded in approval. She wondered how long it would take Victoria to notice she was going commando. At least there wasn’t any chance anybody would be looking up her skirt at this time of night. And it looked like Victoria was starting to recover, her breathing becoming deeper and more regular. After another thirty seconds, Victoria had even managed to raise herself up so she wasn’t lying as limp as a boned fish. What happened next still took Amy by surprise.  
  
Amy jumped as Victoria spun around and up, righting herself in midair. It happened so quickly that Amy didn’t even have time to react before Victoria was on her. Amy wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Victoria’s arms wrapped around her in a tight hug would have been low on the list.  
  
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” Victoria said, words coming out of her mouth at a mile a minute. “Thank you _so much_ , Amy.”  
  
“Uh…” Amy eloquently responded. “You’re, um, welcome?”  
  
Sure, Victoria had cum. But that didn’t seem to justify her response. Amy certainly wouldn’t act like this to someone who had given her an orgasm, especially one wrapped up in so much pain and humiliation.  
  
Further thoughts were blasted from Amy’s mind as Victoria leaned in for a kiss. At first she went for Amy’s lip, but at the last second, Victoria changed course for Amy’s cheek. And even then, she was pretty close to Amy’s mouth.  
  
The kiss seemed to fry some circuits in Amy’s brain. Even if it was just the forcefield rubbing against her skin, it was still Victoria behind it kissing her. Her lovely, lovely Victoria, hugging and kissing her. Hugging and kissing her as thanks for getting a spanking and orgasm. That was, well, Amy couldn’t really come up with a way to describe it. Beyond amazing.  
  
Finally, Victoria pulled back. Her cheeks were about as red as Amy’s, but she still had a smile on her face and she was still holding her sister in a tight hug. She didn’t quite meet Amy’s eyes as she started talking.  
  
“Thank you, Amy. Do you know how long-“ she flushed, and obviously changed what she was going to say. “I don’t think I’ve had a single orgasm since I got my powers. So thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”  
  
Amy’s jaw dropped open as she tried to process what her sister was saying. Not a single orgasm? Not once? But how? Not only did Victoria have enough privacy at home to tend to her knees, she was also dating Dean, who, Amy had to reluctantly admit, would certainly want Victoria to feel just as good as she made him feel.  
  
And Amy knew Victoria was making Dean feel good. After all, walking in on them, only to see Victoria yank her hand up from underneath the table while Dean turned tomato red made things crystal clear to even a dyed-in-the-wool lesbian like Amy. So, why hadn’t…?  
  
Victoria caught the look on her face. The blonde chuckled, embarrassed. Looking down, Victoria cleared her throat.  
  
“See, you know how tough it is to get through my field, right?” She glanced up at Amy quizzically. “Normally, I guess. Still not sure how you managed to spank me. Anyways, it means I can’t masturbate. At all. I’m moving too damn slowly to get anything out of it. A stroke every five seconds or so? Worthless. Dean did his best, but even his orgasm blasts?” Victoria shook her head. “Just wasn’t enough. Not even when he made it pure lust. Just left me super on edge.”  
  
“So,” she hugged Amy again, driving the breath out of her little sister, “yeah, you just let me cum for the first time in years. Thank you so, so much.”  
  
Amy nodded, a little dazed. Both from the close contact with her sister and from what she was being told. Not one orgasm? Not in all those years? God, that was horrible. Amy masturbated three or four times a week, and she still usually felt a bit pent-up.  
  
“So, again, thank you,” Victoria said, flying up a bit so she could more easily bury her face in Amy’s hair.  
  
“It’s, it’s not a problem,” Amy said shakily. “And, and,” inspiration dawned like the sun rising. “And if you keep on being a good girl, I can make sure you keep on getting orgasms.”  
  
“Heh,” Victoria murmured, speaking directly into Amy’s hair. “And if I’m a bad girl, like with that Merchant scum?”  
  
“Then I’m going to have to punish you, just like what I just did,” Amy said rapidly.  
  
She was aware that she wasn’t really thinking things through, and that she might be enabling Victoria. But she didn’t care. The chance to play with Victoria’s body more, and have her sister thank her for it was a chance that was impossible to pass up.  
  
“Then I’ll have to be the best kind of good girl I can be,” Glory Girl said. Amy could hear something dancing around her sister’s words. “And if I’m a bad girl,” her voice dropped, turning husky and electrifying Amy’s body, “if I don’t make my bed or eat my vegetables, then I hope you can help me behave again.”  
  
“Yeght.” Amy cleared her mouth and tried again. “Yes, Victoria, I’ll make sure you can be the best young lady and superheroine you can be.”  
  
Victoria chuckled, but didn’t say anything. She just held Amy in a tight hug for a minute or so, a hug Amy eventually reciprocated. And Amy was very proud of herself for keeping her hands on Victoria’s back, instead of sliding down to her rear.  
  
Eventually, they broke the hug. Looking around, Victoria sighed. She turned back to Amy and gave her sister a smile. The smile was just as warm as her emotional aura, both of them washing over Amy like a warm bath.  
  
“Come on, Amy. Let’s go home.”  
  
“Yes, let’s,” Amy replied. She’d be glad to go home. And get a bit of privacy.  
  
Amy was quite fine with driving her sister to orgasm in a public park, but she wanted to be along behind a closed door before she started masturbating. And she would need to masturbate _soon_. She was drenched and it was all Victoria’s fault.  
  
Maybe that was worth punishing her sister over. Amy smiled as Victoria scooped her up and carried her home, flashing over the streets and buildings of Brockton Bay.  
  
There certainly couldn’t be any negative repercussions from this.


	5. Maid to Serve Ch. 3

  
I breathed in and out, keeping myself calm. I was about to go into the very depths of danger, without so much as a bent stick to protect myself with. I needed to keep myself calm, cool and collected. It was the only way I would make it back out.  
  
Who would have thought clothes shopping could be so dangerous?  
  
Okay, this wasn’t really normal clothes shopping, but it was still pretty dangerous. I knew Flechette was Parian’s girlfriend, so there was a good chance she would be here. And if she saw me, she might realize that I was Vista. I wished I could remember how much time we had spent together with my mask off. I could only hope that enough time had passed that she wouldn’t connect the young, submissive girl with the superheroine.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
I looked up at Skitter, who was looking down at me curiously. She patted me on the shoulder, I supposed in reassurance.  
  
I supposed she wasn’t really Skitter right now, not since she was wearing normal clothes, just like me. But it really was hard to think of her as anything besides Skitter. Not after almost a year of her and her gang being the shadow rulers of the city.  
  
“Yes.” I said. Aware that something more was needed, I added, “I’ve never gotten measured for an outfit before.”  
  
A total lie, of course, but Skitter didn’t need to know that, and Missy wasn’t rich enough to have parents get her custom dresses or anything like that. And, of course, neither Missy or Vista had ever gotten measured with her lesbian, dommy employer in the room. Miss Militia had always waited outside.  
  
My lips quirked upwards a bit at the old Wards joke. Skitter saw that too, and smiled in return. Her hand slid from my shoulder to my upper back and lightly pushed, driving me towards the building Parian used as her headquarters.  
  
And, with that, my unauthorized, unplanned infiltration of the Undersiders as Skitter’s submissive maid had already paid off. The Protectorate knew that Parian was based in Dolltown, obviously. But we hadn’t known where, exactly. And now we did, assuming I got back to report to them.  
  
And assuming I could come up with a convincing way to explain this knowledge. I still hadn’t told anybody about this. I just didn’t feel comfortable telling my superiors that I was working for the most feared and hated woman in the city as her French maid, and that both my punishments and rewards came in the form of her playing with my ass.  
  
I stepped into the workshop or headquarters or whatever Parian liked to call her base. Skitter was right behind me. There was some big, buff, Hispanic woman lounging against the wall right inside, obviously there to keep out the riffraff. I noticed her ripped tank-top that showed off her muscles.  
  
I wondered if that was an intimidation technique, or if Parian had a staff of only women, and if they could only dress in ways that showed off their bodies. At any rate, she looked at me with what would be a menacing gaze to somebody who hadn’t fought all three Endbringers. Then she looked at Skitter, and her expression softened a bit.  
  
“Hello, ma’am,” she said in a deep rumble.  
  
“Hello, Rosa,” Skitter said. “Just here to see your boss.”  
  
“Yeah, she said you were coming. Last I saw her, she was in her workshop,” Rosa said, jerking a thumb down the hall.  
  
“Thanks,” Skitter said, as if there was any way she didn’t know where everybody on the entire block was already. “Take care of yourself, alright?”  
  
Skitter took the lead, leading me through the hallway before opening a door. I stepped through, barely breaking my stride as I worried about Foil waiting on the other side. If she was there, and if she recognized me, then, well, I was screwed.  
  
Thankfully, she wasn’t. It was just Parian, wearing a blue, old-fashioned dress and that creepy, cracked, alabaster mask. She was surrounded by rack after rack of cloth and enough mannequins to staff an entire horror movie.  
  
“Hello, Parian,” Skitter said, stepping past me and extending her hand.  
  
“Hi, Taylor,” Parian said, reaching out in turn. Then she squeaked and stumbled forward a bit as Skitter grabbed her forearm instead of her hand. “Ah, good to see you again.”  
  
“Same here. Everything going alright for you?” Skitter asked, sounding genuinely curious. Which made sense, I supposed. The Undersiders had been a team for so long she had to have friends on it.  
  
“Very good,” Parian said. “And I’m very interested in this project you have for me,” she glanced over Skitter’s shoulder at me. “And this is Missy?”  
  
“Yes,” I said, stepping forward, my own hand extended. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  
  
_Again_ , I added in my own head. At least this time, I probably wouldn’t be leaving with a teddy bear. And I didn’t have the slightest concern about Parian recognizing me. Not after so long, when we only met once, in the dark, in costume, and when she was distracted by Flechette.  
  
“I feel the same,” Parian said, reaching down and shaking my hand. Her mask turned back towards Skitter.  
  
“I have to say, I was surprised that you contacted me about this,” Parian said, leading us back to her workbench. “In the past, you’ve always been the one to make any, uh, business clothing.”  
  
The workbench was covered with… stuff. All kinds of stuff. Bottle of dye, notepads, swathes of half a dozen different materials and even a plate with some crumbs on it. It reminded me of Kid Win’s workshop on a bad day. And, just like Kid Win’s workshop, there were some pictures of French maids, in quite a few different states of dress. I swallowed nervously, seeing just how skimpy some of the pictures Parian had were.  
  
“Missy isn’t exactly a member of the Undersiders,” Skitter said, patting my shoulder. “Or even an employee. Since she won’t be getting into fights, I’d like something more decorative than what I normally make.”  
  
Parian tilted her head at that, and I could see why. It was easy enough to read a veiled insult in that, Skitter saying that her spidersilk was useful while Parian’s work was only good for aesthetic flavor. At least, that how Missy saw it, thanks to sitting in on all those PRT meetings, with suits who displayed the same level of honor as two starving street dogs.  
  
And even Skitter seemed to realize the implications in what she said. She flushed slightly and took half a step towards Parian.  
  
“Since you have so many more materials and techniques than me, you can do a lot better job,” she said in a more hurried voice than Missy was used to hearing her use.  
  
“Right. Thanks,” Parian said, before turning towards Missy. “Well, if you’re ready for this, I’m fine with getting started now. Skitter said you’re working as her maid?” There was the faintest hint of disapproval and surprise in her question. “Or, really as her ‘maid’?” She actually did air quotes as she said that.  
  
“Yes,” I said, blushing slightly.  
  
“Yes, ma’am, you mean,” Skitter said, with a lazy smile. The light caught her glasses as she turned her head to look at me.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I obediently said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.  
  
“Well, let’s get a look at you,” Parian said, the blonde curls of her wig bouncing as she walked around me. “Off with the clothes.”  
  
I exhaled. Oh boy. Stripping naked in front of two women, both of them lesbians. It didn’t take a genius to know where this was likely to go. Of course, Tay-Skitter had said that I was _her_ maid, not the Undersiders. Unless Parian got some groping in while measuring me, the most she would be doing was watching Skitter and I.  
  
Which would still be more than enough! Getting my butt played with or punished had been embarrassing enough when it had just been Skitter. With another woman? If anything happened, I would probably die of embarrassment.  
  
I still took off my clothes, though, staring straight ahead as I pulled my sweater off and folded up my jeans. I could feel the two of them watching me, and I was _really_ glad I had gone for a plain white pair of panties and bra, instead of some of the cutesier stuff I owned. Having Skitter see me in a polka-dot bra would just be awful.  
  
“Underwear too,” Skitter said.  
  
I glanced at her. She was looking at my body, a small smile on her face. She obviously liked what she saw, even with breasts that didn’t really need a bra and a few scars from my work as Vista. I didn’t look at Parian to see what she thought, even if I could tell anything from behind the mask.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said again, reaching behind myself to fiddle with the bra clasp.  
  
A few seconds later, I was completely naked in front of both of them. My face was a bright, burning red, and my hands were fists at my side, clenched with the effort of not trying to cover myself up. I stared straight ahead, not looking to either side.  
  
“What a cutie,” Parian said in a neutral voice. “Let me take some measurements.”  
  
She grabbed a tape measure off of the desk and bent down in front of me. Her mask was so close to my face I had to look at it, staring through the eyeholes into the shadowed eyes on the other side. Parian didn’t return my gaze. Instead, she held the tape out and did a bewildering number of measurements, muttering to herself the entire time.  
  
It was pretty different from the Protectorate did things. And not just because I was naked. Usually, there was meeting after meeting before I ever got to the actual workshop, discussing if anything should be changed in my costume besides what was needed to accommodate the extra inch or two I had gained. And in the actual workshop, there was a computer and a bunch of other high-tech toys.  
  
Here, it was just Parian and Skitter. Skitter, who had ended up behind me, and was surely checking out my ass. Such as it was. And yet, even as butterflies danced in my stomach, I felt arousal start to stir. Just like it had when I had been forced to dash from the supply closet to Skitter’s room at the party, stark naked.  
  
For being a lesbian who had managed to seduce a hero to the dark side, Parian was utterly professional as she measured me. In only a few minutes, she had stepped back and started jotting numbers down in a notebook. She glanced up at me a time or two, before turning to Skitter.  
  
“Now that I’ve got the measurements, it’s time to talk about what exactly you two want in the costume. As you can see,” Parian tapped one of the several French maid photos, “there’s a lot of variety in ‘French maid’.”  
  
I hadn’t been told to get dressed, so I didn’t. I felt another surge of arousal at the thought, baring my body to these two older women. One of them much older, probably at least a decade. It felt so wrong, and it felt so good.  
  
“Hhm,” Skitter said, leaning over the desk and gathering the pictures together. “There’s so many good options here. Although, ah,” she coughed, seeming a bit embarrassed. “As you can see, Missy’s quite the lewd little girl.” I squeaked in shock and outrage at that, refusing to think about if it was true or not. “I was planning to put in her a chastity belt. Should I be talking to you about that, or…?” She trailed off, obviously not sure how to finish the sentence.  
  
“Did Tattletale tell you about that?” Parian asked sharply, glaring at Skitter underneath her mask.  
  
“Huh?” Skitter asked, sounding as confused as I was. “Tell me about what?”  
  
“Nothing,” Parian said quickly. “Nothing at all, so chastity belts.” She was almost stumbling over her words. Skitter and I exchanged bemused glances. “I- I don’t normally work with metal in that amount. And I’m not sure where you’d buy sex toys for somebody as tiny as her. But,” Parian turned her mask towards me and looked at my crotch. I got the impression she was actually doing her job, instead of just perving on me. “I suppose if you pay me extra, I could expand my horizons.”  
  
“Of course. Two more silk undersuits?” Skitter asked casually.  
  
I shivered at the thought of wearing a chastity belt. I’d looked them up last night. And while they sure looked sexy on the beautiful women wearing them, I wasn’t quite so enthralled with the idea of one sitting on _my_ hips. I liked masturbating, and the thought of some heavy, impenetrable metal blocking access sent a shiver down my spine.  
  
At the same time, there was the more, intellectual, I supposed was the word, pleasure of doing what Skitter told me to, and handing over control to her. Of letting her tell me what to do, and that I would get pleasure when she was satisfied with me, and only then. Or until my shift was over, and it was time to go home, of course. There was no way I was explaining a chastity belt to anyone else.  
  
“Sounds good,” Parian said. “Now, for the costume, what exactly are you thinking of? There’s a lot of ways we can go about this. Pantyhose, the length of the skirt, how much cleavage, and that isn’t even getting into the actual styles.”  
  
“Heh,” Skitter said, holding up a photo to compare with me. “I was expecting for you to just snap your fingers and an outfit to appear around her.”  
  
I didn’t need to look at Parian to tell that she was rolling her eyes. Her actually putting her hands on her hips just made the whole thing even funnier.  
  
“Cute. Very cute. Now, I was thinking that you would want something that makes her look innocent, while still gives you easy access. A skirt that ends an inch or two above her knees and…”  
  
The two of them started getting into the nitty gritty of figuring out my costume. Since I was so turned on, I decided to keep on being the good maid, and kept on standing in the middle of the room, completely naked. I could feel the cool air moving over my body, sliding over my nipples and whispering along my thighs.  
  
Maybe I should be masturbating, getting in the chance while I could. But then I decided that Skitter would probably punish me for that, and, more importantly, punish me before I could cum, and make sure I couldn’t keep on masturbating afterwards. And probably do it all in front of Parian, the masked woman enigmatically watching as Taylor spanked me.  
  
The thought sent another shiver of arousal through me. I was coming to realize my sexuality was pretty fucked up. But it felt so good.  
  
So I kept standing there, hands to my sides and every inch of my naked body exposed to even a causal look. And I _wanted_ them to look, especially Skitter. I wanted them to run their eyes over me and see how shamelessly lewd I was. It was so hot, letting them look at my small figure, my stiff nipples, and my shaved pussy. I would even be happy to let them have a closer inspection.  
  
I wondered if it was possible to cum just from being stared at.  
  
The door behind me opened. I could hear footsteps and quickly turned my head, hands half-rising to cover my body before I could decide if I should or not. Then I saw who it was and my arousal quickly fled.  
  
Flechette, Foil, Lily, whoever, was walking across the room towards the workbench. She was in her parahuman costume, mask dangling from one hand and a thin sword at her hip.  
  
“Hello, Lily,” Parian said, the joy and happiness evident in her voice as she looked up at the new arrival.  
  
“Hi, honey,” Fl- Lily, I supposed, said. “Why is there a naked girl here?” She asked, looking at me as she walked past. I stared at the floor and covered myself as best I could. Time for shy Missy, not confident Missy. Not when she was sure to remember confident Vista.  
  
“Skitter,” Parian jerked a thumb towards my new boss, “has even more exotic tastes than we do. Remember the French maid thing I told you about?”  
  
“Huh,” Lily said, leaning against the table and planting a kiss against Parian’s mask. “Kind of thought that would be for her. Or maybe L- Tattletale.”  
  
“Nope,” Skitter said, smiling briefly. “Just little Miss Maid, here.” She turned her head to look at me. “And keep your hands by your sides. Parian needs to see every detail,” she added in a voice that didn’t sound even halfway believable.  
  
I slowly lowered my arms, baring my chest and crotch. Skitter’s smile got wider at that, and Lily snorted, before looking back at what Parian was doing. I was glad her attention was off of me, but would be even gladder when she left for good. Three women looking at my naked body wasn’t better than two, not when one of them was so dangerous.  
  
“Oh, how nice,” Lily said, tapping something. “You’re actually giving her underwear. And a bra.” She looked at me again and snorted. She didn’t actually say what I could tell she was thinking, which was nice.  
  
“Um, yes,” Parian said, sounding nervous. “On, uh, that note,” she leaned in to whisper something to Lily, so quietly that I couldn’t hear. She also produced a key from some unseen pocket and handed it to Lily.  
  
A dull red blush spread across Lily’s face as she straightened up. She glanced at Skitter, and then at me, before turning to leave. My forehead creased as I wondered what on earth I had just watched happen. Skitter looked as confused as I did, and opened her mouth to ask a question. Parian preempted her.  
  
“So, I was thinking of something that would go over the shoulders,” Parian said, holding up a picture. “And not just spaghetti straps, some real coverage.”  
  
I nodded, looking at the photo. That style would cover up a lot more skin than some of the off-the-shoulder samples she had, which seemed to mostly stay on the model’s body by having her huge breasts holding the costume up. I could see myself wearing it and only feeling a bit embarrassed if somebody saw me in it. As opposed to my current, knee-shaking, nipple-stiffening state of sheer nakedness.  
  
“Hey, Missy.” Skitter said, turning to look at me. She leered at me. “Get over here. You look… cold. I’ll warm you up.”  
  
I found her statement to be lacking in truthfulness. But I still did as I was told, walking over to the table and standing by her. I wasn’t at all surprised when she draped an arm over my shoulder.  
  
It did feel nice, though, to have somebody touching me. And using her bare hands instead of her claw-tipped gloves. I took half a step closer to her side, the outside edge of my arm brushing against her clothing.  
  
I also wasn’t surprised when her hand quickly went lower and started groping my chest. There wasn’t much there, but it still felt nice to have her warm hands running over my body. My goosebumps weren’t just from the arousal, after all.  
  
Although the arousal steadily grew as Skitter slowly played with my chest. There wasn’t much in the way of breasts for her to get at, just a bit of flesh and fat over my bones. My nipples were a different story, though. They jutted out from my chest, the perfect target for Skitter’s wandering fingers.  
  
I tried not to moan or to squirm as Skitter pinched my nipples or rolled them between her fingers. I didn’t do a very job of it, though, and attracted a lot of amused glances from Parian as she bent over her work. At least Skitter was only using one hand, though, and only on my chest. I knew how much she liked my ass, and I could easily see her making me melt in front of Parian with just a bit of groping. Making me melt more than I already was, at least.  
  
Lily came back through the door. And she was holding- my jaw dropped open. A chastity belt. I glanced at her red face, and I was certain I knew where that had come from. Wow. I mean, _wow_. That was kinky. Almost as kinky as what I was doing and having done to me.  
  
“Right,” Parian said, coughing. “This is a chastity belt. Padded on the inside, so it doesn’t wear on your hips. But still tight enough that there’s no way anybody is getting any unauthorized relief.”  
  
“It looks good,” Skitter said, leaning forward to run a finger along the top. I hoped Lily had cleaned it. “Yes, I’ll certainly want that.”  
  
“Okay,” Parian said, handing the device back to Lily. “I’ll have to make the underwear bigger, though, so that it can fit over the belt.” She made a note. “Now, I’m guessing that the maid headband or whatever is a must-have?”  
  
Skitter and Parian started talking again as Lily and I, the two subs, waited patiently. At least, I started waiting patiently. Then Taylor’s hand slid down my shoulder and started playing with my flat chest. I squeaked as she ran a fingertip over my nipple, cheeks turning red as everybody looked at me.  
  
After that, I stared at the ground, cheeks burning. Skitter kept on playing with me, her fingers teasing my stiff nipples as she and Parian talked about how I would be dressed up. It was awful and arousing. I could feel my legs growing weak as Skitter’s hand switched from breast to breast.  
  
I had to keep my legs pressed tightly together to avoid dribbling my arousal onto the tiled floor. My arousal wasn’t helped at all by the amused glances all three older women kept on sending my way. I could imagine Skitter picking me up and laying me down on the table. She’d knock my legs aside and fuck my ass while playing with my chest, all while Foil and Parian watched.   
  
I’d utterly humiliate myself in front of them, a veteran superhero begging for an orgasm in front of three ruthless supervillains. Okay, one ruthless supervillain, one turncoat and one larcenous dressmaker. It would still be so embarrassing, the shame mixing with the pleasure as Skitter used my ass to satisfy her own sick desires.  
  
I took a deep, shuddering breath, watching the fantasy play out on the insides of my eyes. Man, I was wet. I either needed a proper climax, or for Taylor to stop playing with my tits. Either one would have been fine.  
  
“Well, then,” Parian said, snapping her notebook closed. “I think that’s everything. I actually have a dress I could use as a base around. We might be able to finish this today, if you’re free.”  
  
“I’ll need to make a few calls, but that should be it. Just so long as you’re done before we have that meeting tonight, with the rest of the group.”  
  
I did my best not to react to that. All the Undersiders meeting up? That sounded important. Hopefully I could get some information out of it.  
  
“Alright,” Parian said distractedly. She turned to me and rubbed her hands. “Now, let’s get to work.”  
  
I swallowed nervously. At least Parian should be professional, given that her girlfriend was in the room watching. If Parian didn’t wear the pants enough in the relationship to make sure that didn’t matter. Or if they liked threesomes. Or if their boss (Skitter) had told them that it was okay to have some fun with her new employee (me).  
  
And I couldn’t quite decide if I wanted that to happen or not. I didn’t think of myself as a slut, and _slut_ pretty much summed up the kind of girl who looked forward to getting molested by two people who thought they were strangers to me, and would have been enemies if they knew the truth.  
  
It would be something to think over as Parian worked me over. And hopefully Lily kept on being blind, otherwise I would _really_ be worked over.  
  
A few hours later, I tottered off of the pedestal Parian had put me up on. I was ready to sit down. Even if it meant rumpling the extremely fancy outfit I was now wearing. At least Parian had been resolutely professional, only briefly touching me, and only ever because she had to.  
  
I looked into the full-body mirror Foil had wheeled in. I blinked, not really believing what I was seeing. It was me, but in a far different, far _better_ maid outfit than the rental I had gotten for the party.  
  
I really did look like a French maid, if maids came in my age. There was the frilly headband on my head, a black choker around my neck, gloves that came halfway up my forearms, the works. I took a step forward, shifting in surprise. It still felt so weird to be wearing pantyhose, even if all four of us liked how good it made my legs look.  
  
The shoes would also take a while to adjust to. They didn’t have a super high heel or anything, but they were still tall enough that I was going to be walking instead of running. And they were black, of course.  
  
And, of course, there was the main dress. It was black and white, as expected of a maid. There was an apron for me to put stuff in. And, most surprisingly, there was some cleavage. Parian had managed to include some padding so well that even I could barely tell it was there. There wasn’t much of it, just enough to suggest I had breasts. If I was feeling suicidal, I would suggest Skitter use some too.  
  
The one unambiguously bad part of it (instead of the parts that gave me a guilty thrill) was the underwear. The dress gave my chest as much support as it needed, but I still needed panties. And the frilly, black and white pair Parian had whipped up were designed to go over the chastity belt, not my bare hips. So until she finished that, I would be stopping every few feet to make sure my panties weren’t slipping down around my ankles.  
  
“Oh my,” Skitter said, stepping up behind me and resting her hands on my shoulders. “You look absolutely beautiful. I’m going to have to find all kinds of things for you to clean up.” There was a glint in her eyes that said the cleaning would be with my tongue, and the mess would be between her legs.  
  
She drew me into a hug, my dress crinkling as our bodies were pressed against each other. It felt nice to be hugged. It wasn’t even sexual, not at the moment. Just Skitter’s arms, wrapped around my body and holding me. God, when was the last time I had been hugged? Way, way too long.  
  
After a minute, Skitter broke the hug. She took a step back and smiled down at me. I tried not to blush too badly, and failed. The giggles from Parian and Lily (and thank God, Lily didn’t seem to have twigged onto who I was) made me look elsewhere. Such as at the clock.  
  
“Um, Ta- ma’am?” I asked, looking back at her. “I don’t know when your meeting is, but if it’s in the evening-“ I pointed at the clock, since there were no windows to point at the setting sun outside.  
  
“Ah crap,” Skitter said. “You’re right. Thank you for paying attention like that.” I felt a small, ridiculous shot of pride run through me. “So attentive.” Now the pride was mixed with embarrassment. “Parian, Foil,” she continued in almost the same breath, “it was lovely to see you two again. And thank you for your hard, wonderful,” she laid a hand on my shoulder, “work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”  
  
“Take care,” Foil said, waving goodbye. Parian nodded her agreement, her white mask bobbing.  
  
I made sure to grab the clothes I had worn in before I left. They weren’t great clothes, but they were still mine. And there was no way Skitter could ever convince me to wear a maid outfit 24/7.  
  
I tagged along after Skitter, having to walk pretty quickly to keep up with her long strides. And since I was wearing heels, that meant I was constantly feeling about three seconds from taking a tumble. But there was no way I was going to ask her to slow down and take it easy on me.  
  
It was just dark enough outside to be a bit hard to see, and not dark enough for the streetlights to come on. Which was probably the only thing that stopped everybody on the streets from staring at me as I did my best to keep up with Skitter. I knew what I must look like, all dressed up in black and white.  
  
Luckily (for them) nobody heckled me or told me to get to bed. Instead, we entered Skitter’s headquarters. Skitter kept on leading me to the same room as last time, and then up a staircase at the other end of the room.  
  
I looked around. And blushed. Downstairs looked more like an office or a reception area where the queen would meet her supplicants. This, this looked more like were she lived. A more intimate place. And I knew exactly what I was thinking of with the word intimate.  
  
There were still a few hours left until this meeting. It couldn’t take that long to change into her Skitter outfit, no matter how tightly it hugged her body. How was she going to spend the rest of her time? As if I didn’t know.  
  
“You know,” Skitter said, rounding on me and making me jump a little. “I haven’t asked you what _you_ think of your outfit. So,” she asked, sitting down in a chair and crossing her legs, “do you like it?”  
  
I looked down at myself. At the frilly black dress with the ruffled white apron, at the pantyhose covering my legs, at the cleavage Parian had made appear as if by magic. And it wasn’t just some dress. It was a maid’s dress. And a maid, by definition had to have an employer. Otherwise, she was just some crazy lady who committed breaking and cleaning.  
  
I looked up at my mistress.  
  
“I love it, ma’am.” The black and white of my uniform was joined by a red blush.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Skitter said. “Now, why don’t we see just how closely that uniform fits you.” Her grin left no doubt about what she meant.  
  
With heated cheeks, I stepped over to her, trying to put some swing in my hips. I wasn’t sure how exactly how to do that, though, and it showed.  
  
“Is there a rock in your shoe?” Skitter asked curiously as I stopped in front of her.  
  
I shook my head, not willing to admit to what I’d been trying to do. Thankfully, she didn’t follow up on her curiosity. Instead, she raised her hands and started exploring my body.  
  
By the time half an hour had passed, I was panting, and couldn’t decide if my legs should be pressed together to preserve my modesty, or spread widely apart. Skitter had decided that since my panties sat on my hips so loosely, I shouldn’t be wearing them. And I wouldn’t be getting them back until the chastity belt was finished.  
  
I was panting with need, and Skitter had stopped touching me. She had checked to see how well she could find my nipples through the padding and the dress, and hadn’t stopped until she was certain she had gotten them. And by ‘certain’, I meant that she had kept on going until my nipples were stiff and standing out from my chest.  
  
Then she had started on the rest of my body. She stayed so, so far away from my pussy at first. Instead, she ran her long sensitive hands all over every other part of my body, pinching and stroking me. I squirmed and squealed, and made her smile more and more.  
  
And now she had stopped, and I was so far away from orgasm. In fact, I could feel my climax seeping away from me, settling down to churn in my stomach as an unsatisfied arousal. It felt as horrible to feel as Skitter’s hands had felt nice on me.  
  
But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to finish me off. That would just be too embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than facing away from Skitter and bending at the waist as I dusted. Which I had done for a bit, feeling her eyes roving over my exposed skin as I pretended to clean a table.  
  
And now I was helping Skitter get dressed up as Skitter. Which meant that she handed me her street clothes as she took them off and I folded them. It wasn’t a very demanding job.  
  
But it still gave me a chance to look at an older girl as she stripped. But not naked, sadly. As soon as she was done to her underwear, she grabbed her Skitter costume and started sliding into it. As she worked her way into the arms and legs of the outfit, she glanced at me.  
  
“So, Missy, I’m thinking that you need a buttplug.”  
My mouth fell open. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I knew what she was talking about, but I couldn’t begin to guess _why_ she was talking about it.  
  
“You’re a butt slut,” Skitter said, smiling at my expression. “So you need something up in it, don’t you?”  
  
I flushed, though I couldn’t really deny it. I had gingerly experimented some more last night by myself, and it had been a good thing I had a thick door to keep any sounds on the inside of my room. But, it was still, as with so many other things, pretty embarrassing to talk about.  
  
“It would be a lovely little reminder,” Skitter said, grinning weirdly as she removed her glasses. “The entire time you’re here, you’d feel it pressing against your walls, filling you up and that’s just when you’re sitting still. When you move…” Her eyes gleamed, and not just because she was removing her glasses.  
  
I wondered how long Skitter had been working on that speech. It didn’t sound like something people would come up with right away. But it had done its job. I looked down, squirming. I already had the maid outfit, so I didn’t _need_ a reminder of where I was or what I was doing. But it sounded hot, something stuck inside me for a couple of hours every time I was working.  
  
Or maybe more! Maybe Skitter would let me keep the butt plug, even when I wasn’t being Missy the maid. The thought of me wearing it to school flashed through my mind. Oh God, surrounded by other students, trying to read while feeling the toy inside of me.  
  
My breath caught as I expanded my daydream. Wearing Skitter’s buttplug on _patrol_. Going out and fighting crime as Vista, all the while knowing that there was a supervillain’s toy buried inside my ass. Making itself known every time I moved.  
  
I whimpered, trying not to. I didn’t need to see through the mask Skitter had pulled over her face to see her grin. I was getting to know her too well.  
  
“Oh? You like that idea, Missy Maid?” She chuckled, a high-pitched laugh. “Well, I’ll know before any of my friends get here. So you go get yourself prepared, and I’ll give you a little taste.”  
  
I whirled around, looking for the bathroom. Within a second, I was inside it, and going for the lube Skitter had left on the countertop. I yanked my skirt up with one hand and grabbed the bottle with my other. After a full, long day of getting teased, I was _so_ ready for this.  
  
I was quickly out of the bathroom again, looking for Skitter. She was standing in the center of the room, tossing a light pink dildo up and down. Even from here, the way it caught the light told me that it was lubed.  
  
It was a pretty incongruous sight, comparing the pretty pink toy to her intimidating costume and mask. I was much too horny to laugh, though. I quickly walked over to her, my stomach jumping as I panted for breath.  
  
“Go over there and grab the table’s edge,” Skitter said, pointing with her free hand.  
  
I did so, knowing what she wanted without her having to explain every detail of it. I leaned forward, sticking my rear out as I grabbed the table. I looked down at a mess of papers, and made a mental note to look through them for anything valuable later as I ‘tidied’ them. That way, I was being an undercover spy, and not just a slut who loved dressing up and getting her ass fucked.  
  
Skitter hauled my dress up, tucking my skirt into the belt of the apron. I kept my gaze looking straight ahead, even as I felt her cool, gloved hands wander over my tiny, tight rear. I spread my legs a bit, letting her get as good a look as she wanted.  
  
And then I felt something pressing against my rear entrance. I hissed through my teeth, and my grip tightened on the table. I knew this was going to feel good, but I was still nervous.  
  
“You’ve been such a good maid today, Missy,” Skitter said, slowly circling the tip of the toy around my entrance. “You worked with Parian for hours and hours, making sure you ended up looking nice and pretty for me. Thank you.”  
  
“Not, ah a problem, ma’am,” I said in a wavering voice. It was a struggle to keep my hips still. “I really like how it looks on me.”  
  
Skitter firmly grasped one of my hips with her free hand. I could feel the clawpoints digging into my skin. And all the while, her toy kept on circling and lightly prodding my asshole, instead of going in. I could feel my arousal overflowing from my pussy and starting to run out of me.  
  
“While I won’t be showing you off to the rest of the Undersiders,” Skitter said, “you’re still a valuable employee for me. Just like Sierra.” I could hear a note of happiness enter her voice. “Although you’re a bit too old to join her childcare program.”  
  
Okay, _that_ stung. I was several years too old to need a babysitter, not a few weeks or whatever Skitter was implying. I looked over my shoulder to shoot a glare at Skitter before remembering that if I pissed her off, she might stop fucking my ass.  
  
“Oh, did that touch a nerve?” Skitter asked, sounding surprised behind her mask. “Sorry. Here, let me make it up to you.”  
  
She pushed forward, the rounded dildo head entering my ass. I squealed, fingers whitening as I squeezed down on the table edge. I could feel my heart pounding as the supervillain started to fuck my ass.  
  
It felt good, the dildo she was using sliding deeper and deeper inside me. I squirmed, biting down on my tongue as the shaft spread my walls apart. God, how had I not known how good this could feel until now? I felt my pussy get wetter and wetter, and every movement sent a shock through me.  
  
My legs were quivering with the desire to kick out or wrap themselves around something. I needed so much right now, and Skitter just kept on sliding that toy up my rear. I whined through my clenched teeth as she made me feel oh so good.  
  
The strength in my upper body had given out, and I was pressed against the table top, feeling a pen digging into my stomach. For that matter, my legs were almost as weak. Skitter had turned me into a horny wreck just by sliding a toy up my ass.  
  
And then she started circling the toy around. My eyes shot wide open as she played with my rear, prodding my inner walls and making them press against my pussy. It was too much, I was feeling too good, and I didn’t even think she had put the entire toy inside me yet.  
  
I thought I was going to cum any second now, and it probably hadn’t been a full minute since Skitter slid the toy inside of me. I was just that horny, just that worked up from the entire day. I relaxed as best I could, leaning into the oncoming orgasm.  
  
“Hello, Skitter.”  
  
“Hi, Tattletale.”  
  
Who was that?! I looked around and tried to stand up, but Skitter placed a hand on my lower back, keeping me pressed against the table. Maybe I could have pushed her off, but all my muscles felt like they were made out of jelly.  
  
I twisted my head around to stare at the door. There was an older teen there, with blonde hair and a black and purple outfit. Tattletale! _Tattletale?!_ How on earth had she gotten here without Skitter knowing? She hadn’t, of course, obviously.  
  
I tried to turn my head even further to glare up at Skitter, but my neck wasn’t quite that flexible. Also, she moved the dildo in a way that was _very_ distracting.  
  
“Having fun?” Tattletale asked, grinning so widely that I didn’t even need to look at her to hear the amusement in her voice. I heard the clomp of her boots on the floor as she walked over.  
  
“Oh no,” Skitter said. “This is a reward for Missy, not for my own pleasure.” She didn’t even try to sound like she was telling the truth.  
  
“Missy, huh?” Tattletale asked, her shadow falling on me. “Huh,” she said again, in a thoughtful tone. “Well, isn’t this kinky.” Now her voice was a lot more gleeful.  
  
“Says the girl with a latex outfit and a sybian,” Skitter said in a mock-grousing tone. “Tattletale, this is Missy, my new maid. Missy, this is Tattletale, my friend.”  
  
“Your _best_ friend,” Tattletale said, still looking down on me.  
  
I was starting to get nervous. Tattletale was way, way too good at working out information she had no right to have. Her figuring out that I was Vista was a distinct possibility, and one that would land me in a whole pile of trouble. Obviously, I should spend as little time around her as possible, but there was no way I could leave right now. Even if I could tear myself away from Skitter fucking my ass, she would want to know why, and “I’m worried your physic friend can tell I’m a superhero” wasn’t going to be a very god reason.  
  
Instead, I tried desperately to shove aside all my thought about being Vista and infiltrating Skitter’s headquarters. Instead, I focused on just being Missy the maid, the little slut who was loving getting bent over by her boss and having her ass fucked. It was a lot easier than I thought, or would have liked.  
  
I didn’t know how Skitter knew how to use her dildo like this, but the pleasure she was stirring up in me made it real easy to forget everything except the burning pleasure inside of me. I made soft, wordless sounds as she fucked me, her and Tattletale looking down at me as I shook on top of her table. It was so humiliating. It was so wonderful.  
  
And then, finally, after an entire day of torment, I came. I sobbed out my orgasm, feeling my pussy tighten down around nothing at all as I shook in the throes of pleasure. It felt so good. My ass squeezed down around the toy, trying to trap it inside of me and never letting go.  
  
My nipples were stiff inside the small amount of padding, poking into the foam. My legs shook, all the strength gone out of them in an instant. It felt wonderful, and I could feel all my cares and stress slipping away for a few minutes.  
  
It felt like there wasn’t a bone left in my body, that if I wasn’t wearing the maid uniform, I’d have just flowed out into a shapeless mass. I wasn’t sure if I could handle many more orgasms that felt that good.  
  
“Good girl,” Skitter whispered, letting go of the dildo to stroke my blonde hair. “You did really good today.”  
  
“’nk you,” I murmured, not able to speak any louder.  
  
“That’s so sweet,” Tattletale said in a half-sincere voice. “But we really have to go and meet everybody else, Skitter.”  
  
“Yes, you’re right,” Skitter said sighing. “Bitch is about half a block away. Missy? I want you to get cleaned up and then… you haven’t had dinner. There’s some energy bars in the cupboards over to your left.”  
  
“Yummy. Dried fig bars, the dinner of royalty,” Tattletale said as I shakily nodded. “It’s a good thing I ate before coming over here. I’ve had enough stale saltine crackers for a lifetime.”  
  
“Right, right,” Skitter said, groaning. “Missy, just stay up here, and we’ll have dinner together after the meeting’s done.”  
  
“Okay,” I said. I was still laying on the table, and I still had the dildo inside my ass. I didn’t feel like I had the strength to change either of those things at the moment. “I’ll, uh,” I was a maid, right, a maid, “I’ll clean up.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Skitter said, sounding a bit distracted. “Come on, Tattletale. Let’s go down.”  
  
She patted my head before turning and heading for the door. Tattletale paused for a moment, and winked down at me, before turning and following. And didn’t _that_ give me a lot to think about. Later, though. I wasn’t up for any kind of analysis right now.  
  
Instead, I was left alone in Skitter’s lair as I recovered from my orgasm and from the hours of not-quite teasing beforehand. After five minutes or so, I felt strong enough to tug the dildo out of my ass, with a lewd popping sound. And after five more minutes, I felt good enough to slide off of the table and stand up.  
  
As I wobbled into the bathroom to clean the toy off, I considered my next move. I may be the only _person_ up here, but I knew I was still under observation. I couldn’t see any of Skitter’s bugs, but I knew they had to be there. In the corners of the room, or maybe under the folds of my dress. There were a thousand places for her to hide her insect watchers, and I didn’t have a prayer of avoiding them.  
  
So that meant I wouldn’t be going up to the third floor, or looking for secret safes in the walls. And no using my superpower, either. If I was going to do any sneaking spying, it was going to be under the cover of being a good maid.  
  
Those papers I had almost had my face rubbed in would be a good start, I decided. And maybe if I stood in the stairwell, I could create a tunnel of warped space to listen at the bottom door. That would be one hell of a risk, though, and I would need to make sure that there weren’t any bugs in the path. Also, I would have to hope that the Undersiders got down to business quickly instead of going on a half-hour long discussion about the best Thai restaurant in town.  
  
I nodded in satisfaction at my plan. I had spent a long while being a buttslut maid, and now it was time for me to act like the infiltrator I had set myself to be.  
  
I looked into the mirror, and was surprised at who I saw. A young maid stared back at me, a girl who had obviously just done something strenuous. Her cheeks were a slowly fading red, and there were blond hairs stuck to her forehead. Her maid outfit was rumpled, her apron riding up slightly on one side.  
  
My blush deepened as I straightened myself up. I didn’t look myself in the mirror again as I turned to leave. And now, I noticed that I was walking with my legs spread apart, and that there was a bit of an ache underlaying the pleasure in my rear. I was glad Skitter had used a small toy, and not some huge dildo that would have left me unable to move.  
  
Rubbing my rear, I made a beeline for the table I had been fucked on. I looked down at the papers strewn across the surface. Plenty here, though I was sure that most of it wouldn’t be useful.  
  
I started tidying the place up. And I actually did do that, instead of just rifling through the papers for secrets. I put the half dozen pencils and pens into a holder, I pushed the chair up into the deskwell, and neatly arranged the papers based on the common themes I could find in them. And if that meant I had to read the papers to find out what was in them, well, how else could I sort them?  
  
There were a lot of papers, and not a lot of information, sadly. I didn’t really care about Skitter’s poorly drawn sketches of what she thought her next costume iteration should look like, or that she had left a note to remind her to get an annual checkup. The well-thumbed copy of _The Hobbit_ was more interesting, if just as a glimpse into the mind of Taylor Hebert.  
  
The real prize, though, was a scrawled note. I puzzled over the writing as I pretended to be busy with some more innocuous papers. I eventually puzzled it out, though. _Ship. N. Trainyard, 10 Tues_.  
  
That wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but, after deciphering her handwriting, I could figure out what she meant, too. There was a shipment of something or other coming in or departing from the north half of the Trainyards, at ten (A.M or P.M., I had no way of knowing) on a Tuesday. Hopefully this coming Tuesday, and it wasn’t just an old note.  
  
Not a whole lot to go on, but it should be enough to start tugging on the thread and seeing what unraveled. I burned the note into my memory as I kept on cleaning up. I wasn’t sure how to tell any of the detectives at the PRT how I got this information, but I was sure I would come up with something.  
  
I kept my eyes peeled, but didn’t find anything else interesting as I cleaned the table up. I looked around, trying to decide if there was anywhere else I could investigate before doing the super-risky plan of listening in to the Undersiders meeting. Sadly, nothing was visible. Either Skitter used her brain to remember most of her stuff, or it was all in another room.  
  
So now what? Time to bite the bullet and start listening in, I supposed. First, though, I made sure that there was a way out. Through the window, use my power to make it a foot high drop, and then keep on using it to leapfrog to safety. And hope that none of the dozen things that could go wrong with that plan happened.  
  
Squaring my shoulders, I walked towards the door that hid the stairwell. Opening it, my gaze immediately fell on a small midge crawling across the wall opposite me. I probably never would have seen it if I hadn’t been so on edge.  
  
Staring at the insect, I bit my lip. Then I closed the door. No, if Skitter already had bugs on the stairs, flight-capable bugs at that, then there was no way I was going to be able to listen in, using my powers _or_ mundanely.  
  
When had she gotten so paranoid? Teenagers were supposed to do dumb, ill-thought out stuff, not act like this. My thoughts carefully skirted around my own actions, in favor of considering what to do next.  
  
Pacing through the room, I looked around. Maybe I should start poking around some of the other rooms. So far, I had seen this room and the bathroom, but there was still a door on the far side of the room I hadn’t opened.  
  
I opened the door. Then I slowly, carefully closed it and took a big step backwards. And now I had investigated every room on the floor. Just looking in and seeing the hundreds of black widow spiders in their clear cages was quite enough to conclude that there was nothing in that room I ever wanted to take a closer look at it.  
  
On to something, anything else. Like maybe getting into those snack bars Tattletale had oh so appealingly described. It had been a long while since my light lunch, and I was getting hungry.  
  
I rifled through the cupboard and sighed at Skitter’s selection. They were all depressingly healthy and non-chocolate. Maybe I’d just wait for that dinner she promised me.  
  
Then my eye fell on the dildo I hadn’t put away. It was still standing on the counter where I’d dropped it, practically inviting me over. And why not? I had tided up this room, and I needed some way to work out the shock of the spider room.  
  
With a smile tugging at my lips, I walked over to the dildo. Picking it up, I twirled it around. It was still kind of hard to believe that this thing had been inside of me, and that it had made me feel so good. Hah, so why not double-check, just to make sure?  
  
It was only the work of a minute to find the lube. I got both it and me ready, and then started thinking about how exactly I wanted to do this. The time spent looking also let me enjoy the tingling sensation inside my lower stomach, the arousal beating out of synch with my heart.  
  
Finally, I decided on a chair. I’d put the dildo down on top of it, and bounce up and down, fucking myself. A perfect mix of energetic and enjoyable.  
  
Humming to myself, I positioned myself over the toy. Just like last time, it was going to go in my rear. Sure, my pussy was right _there_ , and I had no idea when I would have the chance to play with my pussy while in my maid dress again. But it was still going to go in my ass. It just felt too good in there not too.  
  
Exhaling, I slowly sank down, closing my eyes. My aim was accurate, and I felt the toy start to press against my rear entrance. I debated toying with myself like Skitter had done. But I was too horny and impatient for that to really be an option. Instead, I dropped my weight, letting my colon get spread apart by the rounded head.  
  
I hissed through my teeth, my hands tightly gripping the chair’s armrests. It felt so, so good. My pussy had barely had a chance to get dry from Skitter fucking me, and I was getting wet all over again. I knew I was probably making a mess of my uniform and a lot bigger mess of the chair, but so what? It just felt so good, the toy sliding deeper into me second after second.  
  
My hips twitched back and forth from the intensity of the sensations, making the fake cock shift around inside of me. It was so intense that I gasped, and, much worse, lost control. I dropped down, taking the rest of the cock in a single movement.  
  
It was beyond intense. I whited out, unable to see or to cope with anything but the suddenly huge shaft inside my ass, reaching all the way up from my butt to my brain. My mouth soundlessly opened and closed, trying to say something, anything, that would express how full and stuffed I felt all of a sudden.  
  
It seemed to take forever before I recovered enough to think again. I groaned, the slightest movement making the shaft inside my ass twitch. God, that had been too much. I needed it to be a lot slower if I was going to survive fucking myself like this.  
  
Because I was going to keep going. I was much too horny to think of stopping now. Getting a firm grip on the armrests, I pushed myself back up, whimpering as I felt the dildo slide out of me. And whimpering just as loudly as I sank back down, once again filling myself up on the shaft. It felt a lot better this time, though.  
  
And it felt better as I kept on doing it. Well, maybe _better_ wasn’t the right word. Less intense, maybe, less overwhelming, so I would have the chance to actually appreciate what I was feeling.  
  
And I was feeling good. I brought one hand up to play with my breasts, trying to get some pressure through the costume and the padding. I could distantly feel my hand pressing against my barely-there breasts and stiff nipples, but it wasn’t enough.  
  
I whined and fell against the back of the chair, head lolling to one side as I bounced up and down on the dildo. I slipped my hand underneath my dress, glad that the padding was integrated into the dress, and not taped or glued onto my skin. This way, I could properly play with my stiff, sensitive nipples.  
  
And they were very sensitive. I whined, feeling the hard little nubs brush against my fingertips. It felt good, but it was as nothing compared to how my ass was feeling, my hot walls wrapped around the shaft.  
  
Strands of hair had slipped out again, and were sticking to my forehead. I could feel my gaze unfocusing and staring off into the middle distance, and it was so hard to drag it back into coherency. All I wanted to do was keep fucking myself on the dildo, to get that amazing height of pleasure I needed.  
  
I had no idea how much time had passed. All I cared about was the shaft moving in and out of my ass, stirring me up and sapping my strength a bit more every time I sat back down on it. And I just needed a bit more before I could cum. I was so close.  
  
Wordless sounds of pleasure escaped my mouth as I teetered on the brink of orgasm. Just a bit more, just a few more strokes and I would have what I needed.  
  
I was so lost in my pleasure, I didn’t notice Skitter. Not until she was halfway across the room. Her mask was off, and her eyes were hidden behind her glinting glasses. But I didn’t need to see her eyes to read her expression.  
  
“Missy, I am very disappointed in you.”


	6. Maid to Serve Ch. 4

**Maid to Serve 4**

**  
**  
“Missy, I am very disappointed in you,” Skitter said.  
  
I stared at her, my jaw almost hitting my chest. The sight of her stern face, looming above her black and grey costume, sent something through me. I couldn’t tell what it was, and didn’t have time to analyze it.  
  
Within seconds, Skitter was looming over me, the difference in heights only made larger by me sitting on the chair. Flushing red, I stood up, gasping as the dildo slid out of my rear and stayed on the furniture. Part of the gasp was me feeling the shaft slide out of my stretched ass, and part of it was me realizing that I was letting Skitter look at the sex toy I had been playing with.  
  
“Do you know _why_ I’m disappointed in you?” Skitter asked, her voice worryingly calm.  
  
I shook my head, putting my hands behind my back and squeezing them together tightly. The wonderful, wonderful lust I had been feeling was mixing with dread now, winding its way through my stomach and souring the enjoyment that had been filling me just a minute ago. Had I not hidden my eavesdropping attempt well enough? Had Skitter found out, and was about to kill me?  
  
Even if she hadn’t listened to me listening to her, that didn’t mean I was in the clear. There was still Tattletale, who didn’t _need_ a reason to tell that I was more than just a maid. And there was Foil. What if she remembered something? I was freshly aware of just how dangerous of a position I was in.  
  
“Really?” Skitter asked, leaning down to look me in the eyes. I stared into her brown eyes. They weren’t quite as hard and dangerous as I had expected. “You don’t have any idea whatsoever?”  
  
“No?” I asked, shaking my head again and starting to tremble. I hated myself for it, a disgusting display of weakness in the face of danger.  
  
“No?” Skitter asked rhetorically. “Even when I walk in on you fucking yourself when you should be working, you don’t have a single clue?”  
  
“Oh,” I said, enlightenment dawning. “Uh, I’m sorry?”  
  
“Sorry,” Skitter said flatly, standing up and looming over me. “You’re _sorry_ for stuffing yourself with the treat I only give to good little maids, like a little girl stealing cookies, and all you have to say is _sorry_?”  
  
Inside of my chest, I relaxed, just a bit. I wasn’t going to end up in the harbor, or being held for ransom. I just was going to get punished by an infamously inventive and sadistic woman. And why was I still feeling a bit horny?  
  
“I really did expect better from you, Missy,” Skitter said, stepped past me and looking down at the dildo I had been fucking myself on. “You had been acting so good today, and I was feeling so proud of you. But now,” she shook her head, shifting her gaze from the sex toy to me. “You know I have to punish you now, right?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, sighing heavily. Wait, why did I agree to that so quickly? Shouldn’t I have put up a bit more of a fight, arguing that I was so horny of _course_ I was masturbating?  
  
“First things first,” Skitter said, pointing at the dildo. “Clean that up. Then we’ll see about your punishment.”  
  
I picked up the dildo, my cheeks burning. I walked off to the bathroom to clean it, wincing as I went. My ass felt funny, and it was affecting how I walked. But I had a feeling I would be limping even more once Skitter was done working me over.  
  
My walk back to Skitter, still standing by the chair, was a lot slower and more hesitant. Internally, I upbraided myself, telling my body that I was Vista, and that I shouldn’t be hesitating like some weak little schoolgirl. It didn’t help that much, and I kept my gaze on the floor as I stopped in front of Skitter.  
  
“I have to say, Missy,” Skitter said. “I’m a bit unsure about how much to punish you. You’re obviously getting a spanking, there’s no way around that. But should I do something more?” She reached out, running one clawed finger down my cheek and the line of my jaw. “Just how badly should I punish a naughty maid who tries to get the rewards for being a good girl without doing any of the work.”  
  
I stayed silent. My hands were digging into the sides of my maid uniform, clenching the black fabric underneath my hands. I was feeling a bit short of breath, and my stomach was churning.  
  
“What do you think, Missy? How badly do you think you should be punished?”  
  
My breath caught in my throat. Was this a test? If I argued for only getting a quick spanking, what would Skitter do? Would she punish me even more harshly? Would she decide that she didn’t need a disobedient maid and fire me?  
  
That thought was _really_ horrible. I didn’t want to leave Skitter. Because how else could I find things out about her and the Undersiders, like that they were getting or sending something from or at the Trainyards on a Tuesday at one of two possible times. Obviously I needed to stay here, to keep on gathering this kind of important information.  
  
“I think you should be a bit harsher, ma’am,” I said, starting at Skitter’s feet. “I messed up.”  
  
“I see,” Skitter said, in an enigmatic tone. Then her hand slid underneath my chin and forced my gaze up, making me meet her eyes. “In that case, I want you to strip naked. I don’t want your outfit getting in the way.”  
  
I nodded, and reached down to undo my shoes. Before I even had one off, Skitter spoke again.  
  
“But you can leave your stockings and headdress on.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my stomach turning over itself in nervous anticipation of whatever was about to happen. Skitter was far too inventive for me to feel comfortable here, even if she hadn’t displayed that horrible ingenuity to _Missy_ yet. Vista, of course, knew all too well what Skitter could do when she was inspired.  
  
Skitter waited until I was naked, or functionally so, before saying anything else. She looked over me, nodding as she examined my body. I flushed, hoping that she was liking what she saw. And that the sight wasn’t putting new ideas into her mind.  
  
“Now,” Skitter said, sitting down on the seat. I took a step towards her, assuming she wanted me bent across her lap. She held a hand up to stop me. “I want you to go get some ice cubes.”  
  
I frowned, not seeing what possible use she could have for those. And also not remembering a fridge being here for me to go get them from. Skitter smiled at my confusion.  
  
“The freezer is downstairs, straight down the staircase.”  
  
I stared at her, the nervous dread in my stomach increasing. Downstairs? Where there could be people? People who would see me stark naked, showing off my body as I looked for the kitchen? That, that, I didn’t have words to say what I thought of that.  
  
“Off you go,” Skitter said, smiling even more widely. She stood up and twirled me around, making me face the door and giving me a light shove. “You just need two of three cubes.”  
  
I stumbled towards the door and kept on going. I felt- I wasn’t sure what I felt. It was a tightness in my chest and a boiling in my stomach as I walked towards the door that would lead me downstairs. I was really going to do this, wasn’t I? I was going to go downstairs, expose my body to whoever was down there, and then walk back up?  
  
Running the thought through my head sent a shocking tingle through my body. I realized that I liked the thought, somehow. Just like I had found that I liked it when Skitter had sent me for a broom at the costume party. And I had been even more naked then than I was now.  
  
Of course, I hadn’t met anybody running to the supply closet and back. This time, right after a meeting with the Undersiders-! What if the meeting was still going on? What if Skitter was down there with a bug clone, and the worst men and women of the city-!  
  
I staggered, putting my hand against the wall to support myself. That had been a real shock to the system, the thought of half a dozen of the Undersiders seeing me naked. It took a minute for me to get myself under control again.  
  
I took another step down the stairs, and found out just how _much_ of a shock to the system it had been. The movement of my legs sent a thrill of arousal through me. I stared straight ahead, my cheeks somehow turning even redder as I realized the horrible truth.  
  
I _wanted_ people to see me. To see Skitter’s naked maid, to see my barely-there chest, to see my slender body, to see everything. I was getting horny from the thought, and the arousal was mixing with the lust that was already inside me from my session with the dildo.  
  
I went down the rest of the steps, my back as straight as a ramrod. I paused at the foot of the stairs, keeping my ears peeled. I couldn’t hear a thing, not the slightest hint of movement or conversation. As near as I could tell, I was the only person on this floor.  
  
I started down the short hall, heading for the room at the end of it. My stockinged feet squeaked against the floor, and I kept my head looking straight ahead, not turning to look into any of the rooms I passed. If I couldn’t see anyone in them, then they couldn’t see me.  
  
My entirely logical plan failed when I entered the kitchen. Sitting at a table off to one side, there was another, older girl, looking at a checklist. She looked up, her dark hair shifting as her eyes locked onto mine.  
  
“What the hell? Who are you?” Her eyes ran over my body. “Why are you naked?”  
  
It was made worse by how pretty she was. She looked so attractive, sitting there with her heart-shaped face, and here I was, naked, trying, too late, to cover myself up.  
  
“I’m, I’m Missy,” I muttered, dropping my gaze to the floor. Shame and arousal, a horribly equal mix of both emotions, were running through me. “I’m, I’m,”  
  
“Zzhe’zz my maid,” a horrible voice said from nowhere. I jumped, my head whipping around. The girl didn’t, and just looked off into the middle distance. “ZZhe’zz down here for ice.”  
  
“Right, boss, right,” the girl said, nodding and still giving me a weird look. “Um, can we talk about this?”  
  
I walked over to the freezer, trying to ignore how creepy Skitter was. And also wondering if the girl was looking at my butt as I walked. I bent down, opening up the freezer, and hissing at the coldness of it.  
  
I popped three ice cubes out of the tray and turned back around, resolutely not looking at the girl, Charlette, as she and Skitter talked. I cupped the ice cubes in my hand and quickly walked back out of the kitchen, my cheeks burning and my stomach doing flip-flops at the thought of what I had just done. The cool air as I walked felt, um, I wasn’t sure how it felt as it flowed over my stiff nipples. But I sure was feeling it.  
  
I walked back up the stairs and got into Skitter’s room, juggling the ice cubes from hand to hand. They hadn’t started to melt yet, and I had no idea what Skitter was going to do with them. Beyond using them on me, somehow.  
  
Skitter was still sitting on the chair when I entered the room. She was dead silent and staring at me. Since I could still hear the distant buzzing of her unseen bugs speaking to her minion, it was somehow even creepier then I had thought it would be.  
  
“You have the ice?” Skitter asked, as I walked towards her. I nodded. “Good. I’ll take the cubes now.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
  
She held out her hand and I dropped the three cubes into her open palm. I stood in front of her, shivering as her eyes ran over me once again. I wondered what she saw in me, and if she liked it.  
  
“Now, get across my lap,” Skitter said after a few seconds.  
  
That was a bit awkward, making certain I didn’t knock the ice out of her hand as I crawled onto her lap. I didn’t need precise instructions to know what to do. I bent across her lap, my ass in the air and my face down near the cushion.  
  
“This really is a nice ass,” Skitter said, running a hand over it. “It’s a pity I’m going to have to punish it, but you deserve it. You know that, right?”  
  
“Yes,” I sighed, not looking up at her. “I shouldn’t have masturbated, and I should be punished.” I wasn’t quite as sorry as I sounded. Why should Skitter get to decide if I had sex or not? Leaving aside the fact that if I tried this on the Ward’s clock, I would probably getting a lot worse (though far less physical) punishment.  
  
“It’s good that you understand that,” Skitter said. “But I still have to punish you, to make sure that you have something to remember the next time you want a reward you haven’t earned.”  
  
I squeaked, feeling Skitter drop two ice cubes onto my back. I could easily count them, the aching chill of them seeping into my bones as they slid slightly on my skin. But where was the other-!  
  
I quickly found the third ice cube. Skitter had it in her hand, and was rubbing it against the entrance to my ass. My eyes widened, feeling the cold, hard object nudging against my rear. And the entrance to my ass was still a bit spread from my fun with the dildo. If Skitter wanted to, it would be so easy for her to slide the ice cube inside of my rear tunnel.  
  
She didn’t, not at first. Instead, she slowly circled the ice cube around my rear, making me clench my teeth at the sensation. It was pain, kind of, but pain that almost went all the way through and ended up as- not quite pleasure, but it was certainly interesting to feel.  
  
And then Skitter actually pushed the ice cube inside of me. I made a choking sound, feeling it inside of me. It wasn’t even very deep inside, or very big. But it was still so _cold_ , and not even my ass was hot enough to make it melt quickly enough. I beat my legs against the chair, fighting the urge to roll off of Skitter and dig at my ass, trying to get it out.  
  
And then Skitter picked up the next ice cube, leaving behind a thin film of ice water on my skin. I moaned, knowing what was going to happen next. I clenched my fists together, lips bared in a grimace. I wasn’t going to beg or cry. I _wasn’t_.  
  
Just like last time, Skitter ran the ice cube around the entrance to my ass, moving it up onto my small cheeks and then back down, almost touching my pussy. Then, once more, she pushed forward, and the ice cube joined the first one, buried inside of me. The first one was already melting, but having my rear full if ice water wasn’t a whole lot better then having it full of ice cubes.  
  
“One more to go,” Skitter murmured. “And then we can start on the final part of your punishment.”  
  
There was still more? Of course there was still more. She had told me I was going to get spanked, and I was certain that she hadn’t forgotten about that, even if I wished she had.  
  
After a bit of play (where only one of us had any fun at all), the third ice cube joined the others, filling my ass. I hadn’t thought that the first one could at all compare to the dildo, but I was shocked at how closely _three_ ice cubes could fill up my rear. My hips were twitching as I was bent over Skitter’s lap, trying to get used to the feeling. The cold was more of a problem then the fullness, the icy touch radiating through my body just like the heat from the spanking I was going to get would too.  
  
“Good girl. You took all three of them,” Skitter said, running her hand through my hair. “Just one more thing, and we’ll be done with your punishment.”  
  
“Can’t we be done now?” I asked, still squirming as I felt the ice cubes melting inside of me. “Believe me, I’m never going to do this again.”  
  
And that was the absolute truth. I had certainly learned my lesson. No masturbation on Skitter’s time, not unless she handed me the dildo and told me to have at it.  
  
“No, no I don’t think so,” Skitter said, chuckling. “Can’t have the big bad supervillain going soft on a naughty little maid, can we?”  
  
We could, we totally could, I thought. But I could tell that arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere.  
  
“Now,” Skitter said, caressing my backside and pressing a thumb against my entrance. She had removed her gloves at some point, so I felt the warmth of her flesh. “I’m going to spank you ten times. And after each spank, you’ll say how many that was, and you’ll apologize for being a bad maid. Understand?”  
  
Ten times. That was, well, I supposed I could live with that. I certainly wasn’t going to call it quits right now.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, staring down at the seat cushion a few inches from my face.  
  
Behind me, I heard a whisper of air. Then a _whistle_ of air, as Skitter swung her hand down. I was already tensed up, but I still jumped when her palm hit my rear.  
  
“One! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
The hand withdrew, and then came falling back down, hitting my other cheek. Skitter’s other hand was on the small of my back, keeping me in place. As if I was going to try to escape.  
  
“Two! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
So far, the pain wasn’t too bad. Just an ache in my rear, nothing that was too bad. I was only twenty percent of the way done, though. And the ice cubes were still inside of me, slowly melting and making me feel so, so weird and uncomfortable.  
  
“Three! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
Skitter was setting a pretty rapid pace. She had to start swinging before I even finished the sentence. She wasn’t giving me a single chance to rest.  
  
“Four! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
My hands were digging into the cushion, as I tried to distract myself. The pain was becoming really sharp by now, and hard to avoid feeling. My feet pushed against the arm rest they were pressed against as I tried to stay still.  
  
“Five! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
With every slap, I could feel the pain echoing through me. I pushed past it as best as I could. I needed to get punished, so that Skitter would forgive me and keep me on, letting me continue to gather information. And we were halfway done. Only a few more to go.  
  
“Six! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
We were almost done, but it was getting harder and harder to say the apology. My words were starting to slur together. I had to fix that, I didn’t want Skitter to decide that only perfect enunciation would count and that she’d have to spank me again until I got it right.  
  
“Seven! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
My rear clenched down tightly around the cubes, making them shift around inside of me. My eyes shot open wide, feeling them moving. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before.  
  
“Ah-Eight! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
My breath was getting ragged. I could feel tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes from the pain. My ass _hurt_ , the heat spreading through my rear, and the chill of the now-melted ice cubes doing nothing to help ease the pain.  
  
“Nine! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
One more. Only one more and she’d stop spanking me. I was almost there, my ass would stop hurting, it was just one more spank.  
  
“Te-ten! I’m sorry for being a bad maid!”  
  
I sagged limply on Skitter’s lap, my lower torso pressed against the armor on her thighs. I bit my lip to stop from crying. My ass _hurt_ , a deep ache that seemed to go all the way to the front of my body.  
  
“There, you took all ten,” Skitter said in a soothing voice.  
  
Once more, she touched my ass. I jumped, even as I realized that there was some kind of cream or lotion on her hand, and that it was a caress, not a spank. She started rubbing her hand against my rear.  
  
“Did you learn your lesson?” Skitter asked, in the same, calm voice. “Are you going to be a good maid from now on?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, doing my best to fight back tears. “I won’t masturbate here unless you tell me I can.”  
  
The lotion felt _wonderful_. I could feel the pain slowly ebbing away as Skitter rubbed it into my skin. It was still there, it still hurt, but it was no longer quite as intense. Of course, there was still the ice water in my rear. Though that was rapidly warming up, and making me feel _pretty_ weird, having a colon full of water.  
  
“Good,” Skitter said, switching to my other cheek as she massaged me. “Now, once we’re done here, you can get dressed and clean yourself up. If you’re hungry, we can have dinner. Or you can head home. It must have been a long day for you.”  
  
“I was here for Leviathan and-“ no, I didn’t want to think about that horrible day, “whatever happened after the Slaughterhouse Nine left. I’m used to long hours, ma’am.”  
  
“Yes, I suppose you are,” Skitter said tiredly. “Still, head home or eat with me. It’s your choice.”  
  
Through it all, her hand was still rubbing my rear. But now she had stopped rubbing the lotion into me, and was just massaging my rear. It kind of hurt, and it kind of felt good, all at the same time. I wondered if Skitter knew she was doing it. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her to stop.  
  
But I did have to think about what I wanted to do. I should probably go ‘home’ and tell the Protectorate about what I had learned. But it would also be kind of fun to have a meal with Skitter. How many heroes could say that they had done that?  
  
“I’m kind of hungry,” I said, not making a move to get off of Skitter’s lap or make the massaging stop. “I wouldn’t mind having dinner.”  
  
“Just so long as you’re okay with serving the food,” Skitter said, a faint wave of amusement underneath her voice. “You are my maid, after all.”  
  
“Yes’, ma’am,” I said obediently, rolling my eyes where she couldn’t see. “I’ll go get ready, then.”  
  
“You know where the bathroom is,” Skitter said, removing her head from my rear.  
  
I rolled off of Skitter’s lap and gingerly climbed to my feet. My eyes went wide and I hastily clenched my ass as tight as it would go. There was no way I was dumping a load of melted water all over Skitter’s floors. Especially when I knew who would be cleaning it up.  
  
“Berightback!” I squeaked and quickly hobbled over to the bathroom, leaning forward quite a bit as I did so.  
  
Skitter’s amused chuckle wasn’t something I liked to hear that much. Thankfully, it was only a single soft giggle instead of the full-on laughter it could have been. And then I shut the door and didn’t even have to hear that much.  
  
I got myself cleaned up (both my face and my ass) and looked at myself in the mirror. A flushed, red-eyed little girl stared back at me. That was me, huh? A white and black headdress on my head, the barest hint of the stockings that ended halfway up my thighs, and nothing else on me. A flat chest, no hips, and well-muscled limbs. And Skitter was quite happy to have me, in ways that went far beyond having an extra set of hands around the place.  
  
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed back towards the chair and my neatly folded maid outfit, right next to it. Skitter was off by the desk against the wall, typing on her laptop. I briefly considered using my powers to look over her shoulder before dismissing it as the bad idea it so obviously was.  
  
Instead, I got dressed, sliding into the monochrome, frilly outfit. It felt quite good to be wearing proper clothing again after so long without it. By the time I finished dressing, Skitter was closing her laptop lid, and standing up.  
  
“Ready?” Skitter asked, walking towards the door and not looking at me.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, following her.  
  
“You don’t need to end every sentence with ‘ma’am’, you know,” Skitter said as we walked down the stairs.  
  
“I know, it just… feels right, I guess. I dunno,” I finished lamely.  
  
I certainly wasn’t able to explain to myself how easily calling Skitter ma’am came to me, so how could I do so to Skitter? It was just one of those things, I supposed. Probably the bad habits from being in the Wards, where we were supposed to call our superiors (even the criminals and the war criminals) ma’am and sir.  
  
Thoughts about that aside, Skitter led me back down to the kitchen, where we were the only ones still there. Charlotte had vanished to who knows where, who knows when. It was just the two of us.  
  
“Grab whatever you like,” Skitter said, sitting down at the small table.  
  
Skitter obviously didn’t live the high life when it came to food. At least, not here. There were cans of soup and beans and noodles on the shelves, and some more depressingly healthy food in the fridge. Not a single can of pop or candy bar to be seen.  
  
Looking at the food, I was suddenly aware of just how hungry I was. I grabbed a can of corn, a box of chicken noodle soup and some cheese from the fridge. I had learned how to cook, or at least how to do the basics, during the divorce. The soup as the main course, cheese sprinkled on top, with corn as a side. No bread or rolls, though. Easy to make, easy to clean up, and it would fill the two of us up.  
  
It would also be quick to make, as my stomach quietly gurgled. I got the stove turned on, and dumped the soup and corn into two separate pots. While I waited for them to heat up, I found the dishes and set two spots up for Skitter and I. And then-  
  
“Um, what would you like to drink?” I asked Skitter.  
  
“I’ll take tea,” Skitter answered, calmly looking at me.  
  
Um. I didn’t drink tea. I knew you made hot water and threw in those little bags, but what else did you do? Did you add creamer to it, did you take the bag out after you were done, what, really, did you do?  
  
Skitter saw my confusion and smiled. She stood up, her chair scraping on the floor. She walked over to some cupboards I hadn’t been quite tall enough to look into.  
  
“I’ll make it today. I’ll show you how I like it done later.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, turning back to the stove.  
  
A few minutes later, the two of us were sitting opposite from each other, the food in between us. Skitter and Vista, the superheroine and the supervillain, sharing a meal. And it was a pretty good meal, too. Hot and filling, just what I needed after a long day.  
  
“What will you do after dinner?” Skitter asked, slurping at her soup in a way that I really didn’t associate with the feared, vicious supervillain.  
  
“Go home,” I lied. “It’s been a long day, and I’m ready for bed.” That was the truth, at least.  
  
“Yes, today did go a bit longer then I said when I hired you, didn’t it?” Skitter said, slightly frowning. “Hopefully it won’t happen again.”  
  
“It’s okay,” I said. “I enjoyed it. Most of it.”  
  
And I really had, I realized with a healthy amount of shock. Even beyond finding out some information to use, I had enjoyed today, as embarrassing and painful as some of it had been. Skitter was a surprisingly nice person. Or at least a reasonable enough person, which was still something of a surprise.  
  
“This is some good soup,” Skitter said, changing the topic abruptly. “You did a good job with this dinner.”  
  
“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a small burst of warm pride inside me. Being a good maid or cook wasn’t nearly as impressive as being a good superheroine. But what the heck, I’d take my compliments where I could get them.  
  
We chatted about this and that for the rest of the dinner, the infrequent bursts of conversation interrupted by long sessions of eating the food. Finally, we both sat back, stuffed. I had matched Skitter bite for bite, and between the two of us, we hadn’t left a single leftover on the table. Well, less for me to clean up.  
  
“I’m heading back upstairs,” Skitter said, standing up. “You can head home once you’ve cleaned up. You still have that warning system I gave you?”  
  
“Yes, with my real clothes,” I said, nodding.  
  
“Good to hear,” Skitter said. “I’ll see you in a few days then.” She started for the hallway. “Oh, and the day’s pay is by the front door.”  
  
I left Skitter’s headquarters, dressed in my regular clothes once more. The maid uniform was in a bag tucked under my arm. I yawned as I walked down the street. This had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet. First, I’d need to stash the bag at home. Then I’d need to go report to HQ. And along the way, I should probably come up with a more flattering story about how I got the information besides ‘while serving as Skitter’s French maid, I found a scrap of paper before anally masturbating.’  
  
Maybe play the ‘teen detective overhears thugs talking’ routine. That might work. It certainly did for Nancy Drew. And what was the difference between fiction and reality? Yeah, right.  
  
Well, I would think of something. I was, had to be, good at thinking on my feet. Something would come up.

 

*******

 

I really thought that bringing in news about a weapon shipment, all by myself, should get me more of a reward then cooling my heels. Like, say, actually getting to be part of the raid to seize the guns and whoever was actually making the trade.  
  
Instead, I was way out on the perimeter, sitting in the back of a van. If somebody tried to run, and, somehow, the PRT troopers and the other capes couldn’t catch them, then, and only then, would I get to do anything at all, by compressing the distance between the van’s containment foam sprayer and the runner into a yard or so. And since that hadn’t happened so far, all I got to do was listen to the radio as the adults did all the work, and would probably get all the glory.  
  
And I wasn’t even close by on the perimeter. I, and the van, were a couple hundred meters out, positioned on an open stretch of ground on a rise, overlooking most of the warren of sheds were the deal was supposed to happen. Perfect for having plenty of clear space to compress, not so good for anything approaching action.  
  
On the other hand, it might be for the best that I wasn’t going to be too close to the center of the raid. I had had to _really_ push to get the PRT to get some corroborating evidence, and even when some informants or whatever had told them that guns were coming through here, they had still been pretty hesitant to act. They were _still_ hesitant to act. Only a few squads of troopers, and only three capes to lead them.  
  
And, sad to say, they weren’t good capes. For the past year, Brockton Bay had seen a _lot_ of new faces replacing the old in the Protectorate proper. And they weren’t changes for the better. It was obvious that the top levels of the Protectorate saw Brockton Bay as a dumping ground, somewhere to put people who had fucked up.  
  
Miss Militia was the only adult cape left from the ‘good old days’, or, at least, the days before the Undersiders and their vassal gangs sunk their claws into everything. The three capes down the hill? One of them was a boozer, one of them didn’t like taking orders from a woman, and the third thought that her power meant she was better than everybody else.  
  
And yet, even with my worries about how seriously the upper crust of the PRT was treating this, I still wanted to be down there, fighting crime, fighting the Undersiders. And not up here, on a hill, far, far away from any kind of action.  
  
I sighed and stared down the slope at the rest of the green-tinted operation, as the troopers and the adult heroes piled out of their vans and stormed inside the rats-nest of decaying sheds and shacks. I would be lucky to get a mention that I was the one who had come up with this information. And then it all went to shit.  
  
The screams over the radio started at the same time as a mass of insects rose up from the roofs. It was pitch black with bugs as they crawled out from concealed spots and poured through the open skylights. There had to be ten times more already inside, hidden in the walls and ceilings.  
  
“Pop the gas, pop the gas!”  
  
“Let Snowglare save you!”  
  
“Back up, get outside! We can’t- Aargh!”  
  
The driver of the van and I looked at each other and then at the dashboard mounted radio. I could hear the _whump_ of grenade launchers and their explosions starting to echo up from down the slope, matching some of the sounds I heard through the radio. I couldn’t hear any screams except the ones coming from the dashboard.  
  
“Well?” I asked, staring at the PRT officer. “Are you going to do anything?”  
  
He just stared at me, biting his lip. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his black, reflective visor.  
  
“Protocol says not to leave our position except when authorized by our commander,” he said in a too-dull tone.  
  
“Comman-! You aren’t going to _get_ orders from anybody!” I hissed, gesturing down at the complex. Over the radio, I could still hear the sounds of fighting, though it was exclusively that of powers going off. No hiss of containment foam or of grenade rounds.  
  
He stared back at me, his hands resting on the steering wheel. Snarling in disgust, I craned around to look at the officer crewing the foam sprayer. I could only see her legs as she stood on the platform.  
  
“How about you?” I called out. “You ready to follow a kid into battle?”  
  
“I can’t leave my weapon until the encounter is over,” she replied. She, at least, had the guts to openly show her fear, instead of trying to act like everything was okay.  
  
“Fine,” I muttered, climbing out of my seat. I walked through the back of the van, grabbing some gas grenades as I went. “I’ll be sure to mention your help in my report,” I called over my shoulder.  
  
I hoped out of the van and landed on the worn asphalt. I circled around the van, popping the top off of the first grenade as I went. Brockton Bay may have been more or less openly ceded to the criminals, but we had still thought up of a _few_ ways to fight them. And these grenades were some of the best.  
  
It was some kind of expensive mix of some gas that killed insects without killing people, and could irritate dogs’ sense of smell without, again, doing the same to people. Of course, it, you know, _didn’t do anything to people_. I hoped that there were still some good guys on their feet, otherwise I was going to have some problems trying to bring down some gunrunners and whoever Skitter brought with her all on my own.  
  
I hooked the gently hissing gas grenade onto my belt. Then I got another one ready, and shortened the two hundred yards of slope into six inches. By now, a few troopers were pouring out of the door they had come through, clawing at themselves. None of them had the blue gas curling around them.  
  
I lobbed the grenade forward, and it landed right in front of them. The gas started rising, though they blundered right through it without stopping. I wondered if they could see, or if Skitter had gone for their eyes.  
  
I followed the grenade, stepping down the hill in a single step. I kicked the grenade towards the knot of troopers, two of whom were on the ground withering by now. Drawing another one, I carried it in my hand as I stepped through the door into the warren of shacks.  
  
It wasn’t good. There were gently twitching bodies scattered along the hallway in front of me, and some in the rooms off the hall. There wasn’t time for me to administer first aid, not if there was still a chance of disrupting the deal.  
  
I hurried down the corridor, stepping over bodies as I went. All of them still moving and moaning, thankfully. Near the end of the corridor, I saw Steelskin, tied up on the ground, with his spiked taser-club nowhere to be seen. He was glaring up at me, but I didn’t have time to ungag or untie him.  
  
I stepped into the main courtyard, the sun shining through the plastic roof overhead. And I was too late. The large, vehicle doors at the other end of courtyard were hanging wide open. I could see the rear of three large trucks roaring down the road, deeper into the Trainyard, flanked by half a dozen overgrown dogs. They must have started moving as soon as the PRT pulled up.  
  
“Shit!” I swore, throwing the grenade onto the floor. No crooks, no guns, just a whole bunch of injured troopers and heroes. What a wonderful follow-to my information gathering.  


 *******

Three days later, I was still kind of pissed off. All that effort and risk, sneaking into Skitter’s lair, all the things I had done, and they had fucked up. And now I was right back here, wearing the maid costume. And standing in front of Skitter as she sipped at a cup of tea.  
  
“It’s good,” she said, after swallowing.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. And I was. I really, really was. Twenty minutes of learning how to make tea had been more then enough time learning some pointless minutiae.  
  
“And how have you been, Missy?” Skitter asked, looking at me over the curls of steam from her mug.  
  
Great. That was a question I couldn’t really answer. I didn’t feel up for making up an explanation for why I was still angry and upset. And, obviously, the real answer wasn’t going to acceptable.  
  
“I’m fine, ma’am. Everything’s fine,” I said, internally wincing at how unconvincing that had been.  
  
Skitter’s eyebrows rose. And it was still kind of weird to be seeing her face, even after all those briefing documents I had read and reread. It was even weirder seeing her in regular clothes then her Skitter costume with the mask off. But I was still thinking of her as Skitter instead of Taylor Hebert. It was safer that way.  
  
“Is there anything I can do to help… everything stay fine?”  
  
“No.” Yes. Turn yourself in. And then stay turned in.  
  
“Alright, then,” Skitter said, slowly nodding. “If that changes, let me know.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “And if you ever need any help, let me know.” What the _fuck_ had I just said?  
  
Skitter seemed as surprised at my reply as I was. And then she was far more amused then I was. She laughed, throwing her head back and laughing. It was a surprisingly clear sound, not that it made me feel much better.  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Skitter said, still laughing. “My, that’s a good one.” She caught a glimpse of my face. “Thank you, though,” she said. “But unless you have some way to deal with the PRT, I think you should just keep being my maid.”  
  
“Have you been having trouble with them?” I asked, sounding quite innocent, and just a slightly bit frightened.  
  
“They work for superheroes, and I’m what they call a supervillain,” Skitter said. “Of course we don’t get along well with each other.” She took a sip of tea. “They tried to start a fight up in the north end of the city.” She smirked, a hard, unpleasant smile. “I taught them a lesson.” Her gaze flicked back to me. “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t hear about it.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t read the newspapers very much,” I said quickly. That way, knowing nothing, I couldn’t accidentally agree with some detail that hadn’t made into the news. Like how heroically Vista had been, coming to the rescue of her comrades. An act that, you know, _hadn’t made it into the papers_.  
  
“You didn’t miss much this time,” Skitter said, unknowingly agreeing with my opinion of what the PRT said and what reality was. “They tried to bust up some business I had, but didn’t manage a thing.” She smiled as she recalled what she had done to my comrades in arms. “Still, they should have known better then to try something like that. They might be forgetting the details of our little arrangement.”  
  
I wondered how literally she was speaking. I hadn’t heard any believable rumors about the government’s acceptance of the Undersiders being anything more than recognizing that they were too hard to winkle out and still have a city at the end of it. But I could also see something more formal, face to face, being set up.  
  
“I might have to send them a little reminder about what happens when they get too greedy,” Skitter said in a quiet, reflective tone. I wasn’t sure if she realized she had been talking out loud. Then she shook her head and looked back up at me. “But you’re growing up. You should make sure to keep an eye on the world.”  
  
“Maybe,” I said noncommittedly. “Do you think you’re going to have any more trouble with the heroes?”  
  
“Always,” Skitter snorted. “But enough about my job. Let’s talk about yours.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am?” I asked, straightening my back. Now what?  
  
“First of all, how is that belt treating you?”  
  
I flushed, hands darting down to my waist before I could stop myself. The belt had been waiting for me when I arrived. It was a perfect fit, and far more comfortable to wear then I would have thought a pound or two of metal around my hips would have been. But it was still a chastity belt, and I didn’t have the key to it.  
  
“It’s fine,” I said, not looking Skitter in the face and freshly aware of how the padded belt clung to me. “I’m still getting used to it.” My eyes darted up to meet Skitter’s and stayed there, glued by the intensity of her stare.  
  
“Show me,” Skitter said, leaning forward and propping her chin on her hands. Her eyes were dancing as she looked at me.  
  
I swallowed, and looked away. God, I would be exposing myself to her. _Again_. My hands slid down to the bottom of my maid outfit. Then, swallowing even harder, I lifted it up, wishing it was long enough for me to bury my face in it.  
  
I knew what Skitter was seeing. The gleaming stainless steel of the belt was sitting on my hips, underneath the themed panties that went with the maid uniform. The belt that completely closed off access to my crotch, that I wouldn’t be able to touch no matter what I did. And the only key was across the table from me, in one of Skitter’s pouches.  
  
“What a lovely, lovely sight. And I’m sure you feel better now, knowing that your virtue is so well protected.” Skitter wasn’t even trying to keep a straight face or a level tone.  
  
I stared at her, and she smiled back. I had to admit, she had a pretty nice smile. It was a pity it was wasted on someone like her.  
  
“You can let go now,” Skitter said with a nod. I gratefully let go of my hemline, smoothing my skirt back in place. “Now, I’ve been doing some thinking.” Oh no. “And the reward system we have is somewhat skewed. There’s too much of a gap between me telling you that you’re a good girl, and me fucking that cute little ass of yours.”  
  
I had no idea where Skitter was going with this. Beyond it being something really weird, that she should be ashamed for even thinking of. And that I was certain, one hundred percent certain, not to enjoy.  
  
“Recognize these?” Skitter asked, holding something up.  
  
I stared, and flinched a bit. I did. I’d first seen them shortly before Aegis got a strip of hide ripped off of him for leaving a porn magazine in the Wards common room. And I had seen them a few other times, in contexts that were nobody’s business but my own. This was the first time seeing them in real life, though.  
  
“Yes,” I said, my mouth dry as I looked at the vibrators.  
  
They were tiny little things, just two pink bullets attached to a pair of long cords that went down to the battery. I still wasn’t quite sure what Skitter was planning, but I was starting to get an idea. The big question was, where exactly was she planning on putting them.  
  
“Of course you do,” Skitter said with a smirk. “I’m thinking these will be a new accessory to your outfit. You’ll tape these to your nipples everyday when you start work. And yes,” her smile was borderline demonic by now, “I’ll be checking to make sure you’re fully dressed and ready for the day. Whenever you do a good job, that isn’t good enough to get a _real_ reward, I’ll turn these vibrators on for a bit. How does that sound?”  
  
How did that sound? How did that _sound?_ It sounded awful! What kind of person would come up with an idea like this?  
  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
  
What the _fuck_ did I just say? But it was too late to go back now. My, my, my _pride_ wouldn’t accept that. I had to stand by what I said, even if it was a stupid decision.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that!” Skitter said, her smile widening. “No need to wait, you can put them on right now. I even have some tape here.” She nudged the black plastic dispenser sitting on her desk.  
  
I swallowed heavily, but there was no way for me to back down now. Gingerly, I reached out and took the vibrators from Skitter’s hand. They felt way heavier in my palm then they had any right to be. The battery on the end of the cord came clattering after them.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I reached up and tugged my maid uniform off. I didn’t look at Skitter as I did the same to my bra, leaving me standing in front of her in my stockings, my elbow-length gloves, my belt and my panties. And that was it.  
  
Slowly, my face burning, I tucked the battery of the vibrators into my stockings. A quick glance had shown that there was a controller on it, but a subtle flick of my thumb didn’t do anything. It must have been glued in place, so the only person who could control it was Skitter. Surprise, surprise.  
  
I kept on avoiding Skitter’s gaze as I grabbed some tape. Taking a deep breath, I pressed one vibrator just above my nipple and taped it on. It stayed there, even when I removed my hands. Then I did the other one, and stopped to consider just how I felt.  
  
Embarrassed, mostly embarrassed, for pretty obvious reasons. But physically, I felt pretty fine. The toys attached to my chest were... Well, they there, but that was about it as far as the sense of touch went. What they represented was a lot more significant, though. Once again, I was handing my ability to feel pleasure over to Skitter, at least for a couple hours. Even the fact that my nipples weren’t really part of my masturbation routine didn’t change that. It was just one more thing I was sacrificing to be a spy in Skitter’s household.  
  
I looked up at Skitter, still half-naked. She looked back at me, smiling widely. My cheeks got even redder, somehow, as I met her gaze, steadily staring into her eyes. The was humiliating, but there was no way I was going to look away first.  
  
“Now, you can get dressed,” Skitter said, twirling the remote control around on her desk. “And then I’ll give you a quick reward for mastering tea-making so quickly.”  
  
I hurriedly got dressed, going as fast as I could while still making sure I didn’t rumple the clothing. The lumps of the vibrators vanished underneath my clothing, not leaving a hint that they even existed. As I tugged the apron into the right spot, I looked back up at Skitter. My heart was going a mile a minute as I wondered what this was going to feel like.  
  
“And here we go,” Skitter murmured, picking up the controller.  
  
I took a deep breath right as she turned the toys on. My back straightened underneath the buzzing, feeling it running through my chest. Why on earth hadn’t I started playing with my chest before now? It felt so good!  
  
I could feel my nipples stiffening underneath the assault of the vibrators. It kept on getting better and better, and I could feel my pussy getting wet. My hands curled into fists as-  
  
As the vibrators stopped. My eyes went wide as I turned to look at Skitter. She was still smiling widely, and looked like she was about to start giggling. I could still feel the arousal inside of me, slowly dying away.  
  
“There, you see?” Skitter said, in a much too happy tone. “That’s what good girls can get.”  
  
I breathed in and out, trying to calm myself. What bad girls got hardly needed to be said. But, as good as this had felt, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a good girl. Not if that meant only getting a minute of stimulation before it stopped, long, long before I could actually cum from it.  
  
“Now,” Skitter said, tucking the controller away. “There’s plenty of work here for a maid to take care of.” She waved her hand around the room. At a glance, I couldn’t see much that really needed doing. “So get to work, and I’ll be by to see how well you’re doing.”  
  
She turned back to the swathes of silk laid out over her desk. I started wandering around the room, trying to find something to do. I didn’t think it would be a very good idea to just grab one of Skitter’s books off the shelves and start reading it, even though that would be a better use of my time then making sure that the cushions on the couch were both at a forty-five-degree angle to the armrest and other useless bits of make work.  
  
I also couldn’t find much in the way of information to pass on. There weren’t any phone calls to listen in on, I couldn’t go through the paperwork on Skitter’s desk when she was sitting right there, it was turning into something of a wash as far as the real reason I was here went.  
  
“Missy,” Skitter said, still looking down at whatever she was working on, “stop looking for things to do.”  
  
I straightened up, and stopped trying to decide if I should order the junk on the end table by size or by my aesthetic preferences. I looked at Skitter, who kept on drawing something.  
  
“Instead, how about you do some more personal service for me?”  
  
“Like what, ma’am?”  
  
Was this how it was going to start? ‘Here, Missy, take this heavy bag that’s leaking white powder down to the street corner, and hand it off to the guy there’?  
  
“I mean, I want you to crawl underneath my desk, pull down my pants, and give me some personal attention,” Skitter said.  
  
I couldn’t believe my ears. A massive blush spread across my face, seemingly all the way from my forehead down to my shoulders. If I didn’t know better, I would have said that Skitter sounded a bit embarrassed too.  
  
Was I going to do that? Yes, I realized I probably was. It just felt _right_ somehow, giving something back to Skitter after all the money she was paying me, and the, uh, other things she gave me.  
  
I started walking over to the desk, my legs feeling stiff. I could feel a tight, twisting tension in my lower belly as I got closer and closer. It wasn’t a very big room, though, and I pretty quickly ended up in front of the desk, as Skitter pushed herself to one side so I could crawl down underneath it.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, I did just that, my knees hitting the floor. I inched forward, and then swung around, swallowing nervously as Skitter pulled herself back in, trapping me underneath the desk.  
  
My hands trembled, just a bit, as I reached up and grabbed the waist of Skitter’s pants. Had she been planning this? Was this the reason she wasn’t wearing her costume today? Had she woken up this morning and decided that she wanted to get eaten out by her maid?  
  
I had done this before, once, with her. But one time still wasn’t enough to really get used to the idea of giving oral sex to the scariest person in the city. Heck, I was barely getting used to being the maid for the scariest person in the city, and this was my third or fourth go at it.  
  
I tugged Skitter’s pants down, taking her underwear with them. She lifted herself up, letting me slide them down her long legs. She had a lot of muscle on those legs, more then I would have thought someone with her build would have managed.  
  
And then Skitter’s pants were down around her ankles, and I really didn’t have anything to distract me with anymore. I stared at her crotch. It was neatly tended, the hair groomed into a thin bar. Skitter angled her hips forward a bit and spread her legs, giving me as much access as I could want. How lucky for me.  
  
I placed my small, gloved hands on Skitter’s thighs and drew myself in closer. I glanced up, but couldn’t see anything more then the bottom of the desk. If Skitter was watching me, then it wasn’t with her eyes.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I leaned in towards her crotch. I nervously licked my lips, staring down at her pussy. She wasn’t as aroused as she had been on the night of the party. I couldn’t see any sparkling hints down there. So it would be up to me to make them. Again, how lucky.  
  
I planted a quick kiss on Skitter’s pussy. It didn’t last long, maybe for three seconds at most. Then I drew away. I hadn’t felt anything but the pressure of my lips against something. I could have done the same by kissing the back of my hand. I needed to do more.  
  
I brought one hand up, slowly dragging the tip of my finger along Skitter’s lower lips. I went from top to bottom and then back the same way. All of a sudden, all the times I had masturbated vanished from my mind, and I could barely recall what I was supposed to be doing.  
  
I started licking in addition to touching her, running my tongue in short licks around her clit. I was trying to coax it out of the hood of flesh protecting it, so I could _really_ give something back to Skitter. And it _was_ working. I could see (and taste and feel) Skitter’s arousal slowly growing, making more and more drops of dew appear on her folds.  
  
I was getting a bit horny myself. There was something weirdly hot about doing this, tending to another woman while knowing that it was impossible for the same to happen to me. And, of course, there was always the thought that maybe Skitter would turn those vibrators on. And then keep them on, long enough for me to find out if I could actually orgasm from just nipple stimulation.  
  
But in my heart, I knew that I would only get that if Skitter was satisfied with my work. So I started showing even more resolve, doing my very best. My tongue started sliding a short way into Skitter’s folds, piercing her lower lips.  
  
And now Skitter’s legs closed in around me, keeping me trapped even more firmly underneath her desk. I did my best to ignore them, and kept on licking, fingering Skitter’s crotch as I did so. And it was starting have an effect.  
  
Skitter was starting to twitch, in a way that I didn’t think was entirely voluntary. And there was more and more arousal leaking out of her, running down onto the seat and onto my fingers and lips. I ran my tongue over them, collecting the flavor. It was just as weird as it had been the last time. Then I ran my tongue along her clit.  
  
And that did it. I blushed as I realized I was making Skitter cum right in front of me. Her lower body trembled, and my lips were splattered with an increase of arousal. It was getting all over my face, and I swore I heard a low moaning sound from up above.  
  
Then, in less than a minute, it was over and done with. Skitter pushed her chair back, and smiled down at me. She looked honestly happy and relaxed as I withdrew my finger from her wet, tight folds. I didn’t like to admit it, but it made my heart go just a little bit faster.  
  
“Good girl,” Skitter said, showing off the remote. “Ready for your reward?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Maid To Serve Ch. 5**

  
“Good evening, ma’am!” I called out as I stepped through the door onto the second floor.  
  
I was all dressed up and ready for another day of working for Skitter, serving underneath the fearsome villain as I gathered information. It was probably a dangerous job, but I had stayed untouched so far. As I thought that, I fidgeted with the chastity belt on my hips and the vibrators taped to my nipples. Yep, completely unaffected by this undercover work, both mentally and physically.  
  
“Hello, Missy,” Skitter said, looking up from her laptop. She smiled at me, her wide mouth twitching upwards. “How are you today?”  
  
“I’m doing fine, ma’am,” I said, walking over to her. A quick glance around the room didn’t show anything unusual. “The sun is out, birds are singing, all of that,” I added, handing over the key to the chastity belt.  
  
That was one of the rules. So long as I was wearing my French maid uniform, I was on Skitter’s time. And that meant that I was wearing a chastity belt, to ‘protect my virtue.” Skitter had kept an impressively straight face when she said that, describing to Ms. Kiley why I was around. The only person I was actually in danger from was Skitter herself. Nobody else in the building had even dared to touch me. And that was without knowing I was a superheroine.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Skitter said, tucking the key away. She was wearing her Skitter costume, though the mask was on the table next to her. The light glinted off her glasses as she looked at me.  
  
“What would you like me to do today, ma’am?” I asked.  
  
“Everything is still very clean from your excellent job last night,” Skitter said. I smiled, but I was worried she might be buttering me up. “But there is one thing I would like your opinion on,” she said, curling a finger at me to bring me over.  
  
“What’s that, ma’am?” I obediently asked, walking around the chair to look over her shoulder.  
  
I didn’t know what I was going to say next, but what I saw took the wind out of my sails. Skitter wasn’t doing any kind of work, tracking drug shipments in spreadsheets or anything. Instead, she was looking at porn. A specific kind of porn, too.  
  
There were three themes in the photos, drawings and videos Skitter was looking at. One was of young girls. Barely legal my ass. The other was of girls in maid costumes. The third was of girls in bondage.  
  
I stared at the laptop screen, my jaw slack. Skitter kept on paging through the multitude of tabs she had open, showing off more and more images. I was distantly aware of my face heating up as Skitter paused on photo of a girl (ten years older than me), with her arms tied behind her back, a big red ball secured with straps in her mouth, and her maid costume pulled up over her pantyhose-covered ass. There was another woman in the picture, raising a paddle up and staring at the butt in front of her.  
  
“Ghk,” I said, still staring.  
  
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Skitter said, sounding disgustingly pleased with herself. “And I was wondering just what I could do to make your maid uniform look even _better_. Do you have any thoughts on the matter, Missy?”  
  
I stared straight ahead, not looking to the side and being forced to then see Skitter’s smug, smug face. Of course, that meant I was staring at the screen, looking at all the perverted things Skitter obviously wanted to try out on me. The images seemed to sink into my brain as Skitter started tabbing through them again.  
  
I was sure that I was going to end up like those girls. I could already feel the leather around my wrists, and the taste of a plastic gag in my mouth. I didn’t think there was anything I could say to get myself out of at least one session with whatever bondage gear Skitter had. Whatever bondage gear Skitter had that I wasn’t already wearing, I added, feeling the belt pulling down on my hips. But I still had to give it a shot. If I gave up just because things seemed bad, I’d never do anything in this town.  
  
“It’s going to be very hard to clean up with my arms like that, ma’am,” I said as steadily as I could, pointing at a picture of a black girl with white rubber wrapped around her arms, trapping them underneath her breasts.  
  
“Maybe, maybe,” Skitter said, still sounding far too amused with herself. “But this ball gag, maybe,” she said contemplatively, looking at a cartoon of a girl even younger then I was with a black ball forcing her lips apart.  
  
“I don’t talk _that_ much,” I pointed out, feeling a shiver run through me.  
  
“Ha!” Skitter laughed, looking at me and smiling. It was an honest smile, too, full of nothing but good humor. “No, no you don’t. But you would look pretty cute in it,” she added, her smile shifting a bit.  
  
My face felt as red as a tomato now, from everything Skitter was saying and showing me. My embarrassment and nervousness was only enhanced by the possibility of me actually ending up like that. I stared at a picture of a girl in a maid costume, kneeling on the floor, her legs tied to her thighs, and her arms behind her back in some kind of wrap that went all the way to her shoulders.  
  
I just couldn’t imagine myself looking like that. Both the heavy restraints and the way she was enjoying herself were just completely and utterly alien to me. Nope, there wasn’t a single point of resemblance between me and her. We had nothing at all in common.  
  
I was just working here because I got good information, stuff I could use to bring down Skitter, or at least put a dent in her plans. The reason why I didn’t masturbate much lately was because, because I was just too busy, obviously. Skitter would take care of me when I put on the costume. It wasn’t because I felt guilty or anything silly like that.  
  
After all, who could _enjoy_ what Skitter made me go through? Forcing a superheroine to clean up her messes, making her wear some kind of degrading, humiliating outfit. It was so evil of her to do this sort of thing, I told myself. And then she would punish me or rape me, either bending me over her lap to spank me, or bending me over the table to fuck my ass.  
  
It was all so, so horrible, the things she made me do. It was just such a good thing I was gathering so much good information during the horrible things she did to me.  
  
I squeaked and jumped as Skitter’s hand casually fell down and grabbed my thigh. I stared down at her hand, disappearing underneath my poofy dress, and then back up at her. She still wasn’t looking at me, even as her hand started to massage me.  
  
“Just think about it,” Skitter said, leaning back in her chair as she stared. “You in latex, from head to toe. Latex apron, latex headdress, latex everything.” It sounded squeaky. And hot. “High heels making you sway that cute little ass from side to side.” Or making me fall on my ass, if I tried some of the heels those girls were wearing. “It would be a shame to give up looking at your pretty face,” and now Skitter turned to look straight at me. I blushed, and turned my face towards the laptop. “But it would be so very hot to see you in a full-face mask, with a ball gag built in.”  
  
I couldn’t tell if Skitter was actually going to be buying this stuff for me, or if she just wanted to watch me squirm. And I was squirming quite a bit. The picture she was painting with her words, it was very, very detailed. I could already see myself in it, almost unable to move, wrapped around in black and white. Leaving me even more at Skitter’s mercy then I already was.  
  
“You’d still be expected to do the work I’m paying you for,” Skitter said in a musing, _amused_ tone. “That wouldn’t be any reason to slack off.” I looked at the skirt that was so tight it was practically a pair of pants, at the corset that was as thin as my neck and the mask that only had two holes for air. “Of course, if you were a bad girl who didn’t do her work,” Skitter said, still running her hand along my thighs and up to my ass, “I’d have to punish you.”  
  
Now there was a picture of a woman (very obviously a woman), where the only holes in the rubber I could see were the two ovals exposing her ass. That she was bent over the lap of another woman just drove the point home even harder. My butt already burned, imagining the spanking Skitter would give me if she ever actually found me slacking on the job. Or ‘slacking’, wearing that outfit.  
  
I squeaked embarrassingly as Skitter pulled me into her lap, turning her chair so her arms could tug me right into her embrace. She oof’ed as I landed in her lap. I may have been a late bloomer (so late I was wondering if I was going to grow at all), but I was still a fourteen-year-old girl. Someone, especially someone as skinny as Skitter, would have to feel me landing on her lap.  
  
I didn’t resist Skitter pulling me back so that my back was pressed against her front. It wasn’t very comfortable, feeling the hard plating of her armor digging into my back. But somehow, I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would have. Feeling her arms around me, pressed up against her, made me think of things I hadn’t touched on for a long, long time. Back when- well, back when things were better.  
  
“So what _do_ you think of all of that?” Skitter asked. I could feel her breath ruffling the top of my hair. “Is there anything in these pictures,” her hand left my waist to tab through them again, “that you would like to try out?”  
  
Wait, she was serious about doing this? At least, serious enough to let me decide what I wanted to wear? Wow, that was… weird, and kind of touching. I licked my dry lips, trying to think as Skitter’s other hand slowly started moving over the front of my dress, sliding down towards the hem of my skirt.  
  
What exactly would it feel like to be dressed up like that? I wouldn’t be able to move, my arms and legs locked together. I wouldn’t even be able to see, I wouldn’t be allowed to talk, I may not even be able to hear. Heck, if that latex was thick enough, I may not be able to feel that much.  
  
Unless Skitter put some toys in the suit with me, I thought, swallowing… nervously. Yeah, nervously. I could easily imagine Skitter ordering me to stand upright, in heels that were impossible to balance in. And then, once I was already quivering with the effort of staying upright, she’d switch on the buttplug and the nipple vibrators.  
  
I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay upright for very long if that happened to me, especially if my arms were tied up behind me. I’d fall over, breaking the rules Skitter had set out for me. And then what would she do?  
  
So far, I had been a pretty good maid, I liked to think. I had only been punished a few times. But what could Skitter do? And, a just as disturbing question, would I like it? After all, a spanking could make me feel really… weird. Yeah, weird. The bad kind of weird, of course.  
  
And then another thought struck me. So far, Skitter hadn’t really shown me off. Tattletale, Parian and Foil had all seen me, but only the latter two had really spent any time with me (too much time, for Foil).  
  
But if I was just some faceless… god, maybe not even a person, just a _thing_ , in a black outfit with a latex white apron… Skitter should show me off to all of her criminal friends. I may not even know that they were there. Even if they decided to grope me, I wouldn’t feel anything if the latex all over my body was thick enough. I would just be an art piece, like the weird thing Skitter had hanging on one wall.  
  
As vivid as the images were, I couldn’t quite decide what I thought of them. Did I like the idea? How could I? I mean, honestly, who would get turned on by the idea of not even being a person, and just being a thing shaped like a latex maid? I wasn’t some kind of pervert.  
  
But the only reason the idea was getting driven out of my mind was because of Skitter’s hands. She was wandering up underneath my skirt, sliding over the pantyhose. I wanted her hands to go up a bit further. And also for the chastity belt to be removed, otherwise what would the point be?  
  
It was _really_ hard to concentrate, trying to divide my attention between Skitter’s hand and an answer to her question. I swallowed, pressing my legs tightly together even as Skitter’s fingers slide between them.  
  
“I, I don’t,” I stammered, shoulders rising and falling as I tried to think of both what it would feel like to be treated like the girls on the laptop, and what I was _going_ to feel as soon as Skitter slid up my thighs. “I need more time to think about it!” I said, my voice rising to a high pitch.  
  
“Do you?” Skitter asked, her hand dipping underneath my skirt and making me shiver. “Well, take all the time you need. Maybe I should be looking into some tamer stuff. Nancy the Nurse, or Sally the Student, to go with Missy the Maid?”  
  
“My name really is Missy,” I grumbled, faintly astonished that I was able to do anything but moan as Skitter’s clawed fingertips drifted back and forth along my thighs, her pointed fingers ruffling the pantyhose.  
  
“And what a cute name it is,” Skitter said, obviously having the time of her life, toying with me. “But I’ve never been terribly attached to names,” Taylor Hebert said to Vista.  
  
“I think I’ll stay Missy, thank you very much,” I said firmly.  
  
Honestly, I should probably have been someone other than Missy. I knew that the Undersiders had gotten far, far too much information off of the PRT’s servers early in their careers. That Missy Birion, aka Vista, was part of that information was quite possible. Still, I hadn’t thought about that when telling Skitter that, that night at the party. And it was far too late to try and change now. So I was Missy, and I was going to stay Missy until… Until who knows when. I didn’t have the slightest idea when or where my infiltration of Skitter’s operation would end.  
  
“If you say so,” Skitter said teasingly.  
  
She fell silent after that, keeping me on her lap as she played with me, her hand running along my belt, thighs, and lower stomach. I was content to keep on sitting on her lap, enjoying the peace and quiet. It felt _nice_ to sit on Skitter’s lap like this, even as she did kind of lewd things to me.  
  
“Crap, is it that late already?” Skitter suddenly said, making me jump. I glanced at the laptop’s clock, seeing that fifteen minutes had already passed since I started my second job. I was willing to be that Skitter was surprised over a lot more then that, though. “Sorry, Missy,” Skitter said, pushing me off of her lap. “I’ve got some business to take care of.” She grabbed at her mask. “Just clean up around here, and then, I don’t know, watch a movie or something,” she jerked a thumb at the big-screen TV along one wall. “I paid a lot for that, it might as well get used.”  
  
I was kind of shocked and surprised at how abruptly things had shifted. But being in the Wards had taught me how to adapt to the unexpected. I nodded, walking to the cabinet where I kept the majority of the cleaning supplies (a single feather duster).  
  
“Fine by me, ma’am,” I said. “When will you be back?”  
  
“That depends on much Larrick likes to hear himself talk,” Skitter muttered, half to herself. “I don’t know,” she added, in a louder tone. “If you want to go home after your normal hours, go ahead. No, today’s payday, isn’t it?” Skitter said. “If you get tired, just crash on the couch and I’ll give you your money whenever I get back.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my mind racing.  
  
I knew a Larrick. He was a Deputy Director for the PRT, overseeing the Protectorate. It hardly seemed possible that Skitter was referring to anybody else. So why was she meeting him? Was it something that was standard, one of the two leaders of the Undersiders meeting with a government employee to tell him what he could and couldn’t do? Or was it something more nefarious? More nefarious then a criminal subverting the legitimate government, I mentally added. Or at least the government, I added to _that_.  
  
And if it was, what could I do? I was already taking a lot of risks in my current infiltration, without the PRT being willing to throw me to the wolves. If Larrick (and who knows who else) was giving information to Skitter, the information I gave to them in turn might be a terminally dangerous proposal.  
  
But what else could I do? I couldn’t give up on being a heroine, even in a city like Brockton Bay. I’d have to try and find out if Larrick could be trusted. Somehow.  
  
And _Goooood_ , this was not what I had been expecting tonight. I’d just been looking forward to an evening with Skitter.  
  
I thought over what had just passed through my mind and blushed, my embarrassment outweighing my concern. I was looking forward to an evening pretending to work for Skitter and finding out useful information, not, like being _with_ Skitter or anything. Even if there was an tingle in my chest that I hadn’t felt since Leviathan’s attack.  
  
Skitter was long gone by now, though I was sure she was still keeping a few hundred eyes on me. I grabbed the feather duster and resolutely started cleaning, trying to calm myself down from the _number_ of disturbing thoughts I had just had. I ran the duster over a counter, realizing even as I did so that I was sticking my rear out, trying to show off to an empty room.  
  
I straightened, blushing. There was no reason to try and sedu- do that sort of thing when Skitter wasn’t even here. Her bugs didn’t count.  
  
After fifteen minutes of doing some pretty unneeded work, I decided that Skitter was far enough away to let me snoop around in privacy. Sadly, Skitter had shut her laptop off before leaving, so there was no way to access the gold mine of information that had to be on it. I gave it my best anyways, but discovered that neither ‘password’ or ‘Password1’ would get me anywhere.  
  
Defeated, I turned to whatever paper was laying around. Hopefully, I could find something better then I had before. And, just as hopefully, the PRT and Protectorate could actually do something with the information discovered beyond having a humiliating defeat.  
  
I sifted through the miscellaneous papers and notepads on Skitter’s desk, looking for something better than the sloppy sketches of costumes I was finding. Though one sketch of what looked like a maid apron did give me a moment’s pause. Putting it aside for later consideration, I kept on searching, looking for something, _anything_ that could justify my presence here. Enjoying how nice it felt to sit on Skitter’s lap wasn’t enough.  
  
Finally, I found a yellow-papered notepad. Skitter’s angular handwriting filled it, and I squinted at it, trying to puzzle meaning out of the scrawled words and numbers.  
  
Finally, I got something. There was a safehouse or a storage point, or _something_ at a laundry on Gilman Avenue. I had no idea what Skitter or the other Undersiders were keeping there, but it had to be worth breaking up. I stared at the address, memorizing it, so I could look it up once I was out of here.  
  
That done, I dropped the notebook back onto the desk, neatly arranging it and placing it underneath some notepads. Well, that made today all worth it. Assuming that Deputy Director Larrick didn’t shoot me the instant I suggested we fight the Undersiders. _That_ would be a problem to deal with later.  
  
Instead, I started looking around for something to do. Skitter wasn’t a very messy person, and if anyone else came up here, they didn’t make a mess either. I supposed I could sweep and mop the floor, which would take ten minutes at most. And then?  
  
Heck, maybe Skitter would come back to find her maid sprawled on the couch watching TV after all. And she would still probably pay me. But I should still at least _try_ and earn the five hundred dollars I was getting.  
  
Shrugging, I headed downstairs, looking for the broom and the mop. While I worked for half an hour or so, maybe I could think about what Skitter had shown me, my possible future as some kind of kinky bondage maid. If she found out from Larrick that I was spying on her, maybe she’d be merciful ( _Skitter?)_ and that would be my punishment, being an eternally locked-up maid. Or maybe I’d just disappear, never to be seen by anyone ever again.  
  
Frowning, I got to work, running things over in my head. And, in addition to all of that, I would need to swing by the laundromat so I could discover that the Undersiders might be using it. What should I see there? Someone on our wanted lists looking out from a second-story window? A suspicious transaction in the alley behind. I’d think of something.  
*******  
Three hours later, I could see why Skitter hadn’t used the TV (bigger then I was) very much. She didn’t have a DVD player, and there was nothing interesting on. And yet, there was still nothing left to do. I didn’t want to exercise in my maid outfit, I _knew_ what would happen if I tried to masturbate, and wherever Skitter kept her books, it wasn’t anywhere I was allowed. Upstairs on the third floor, probably, along with her bed. Unless she slept in a cocoon, dangling from the ceiling.  
  
So now I was just throwing the remote control up into the air and catching it, staring at the ceiling and waiting for Skitter to come back. I didn’t really want the money, even though it was more then what the Wards were paying me (and that I could use _now_ , not in half a decade.) It was more that I wanted to see Skitter again.  
  
So that I could subtly pump her for more information, obviously. What other reason could there possibly be to want to impress Skitter with my dedication, I thought as I shifted around, feeling the chastity belt pressing against my hips and the vibrators taped to my nipples.  
  
Finally, my prayers were answered. I heard a door slam below me, and the light tread of footsteps on the stairs. I slid off the couch and stood up, knowing that Skitter already knew I had just been relaxing. I faced the door, clasping my hands in front of my waist, looking as much like the perfect maid as I could.  
  
“Welcome back, ma’am,” I said as the door opened.  
  
Skitter was there, all by herself. I instantly noticed the brown paper bag she had in her hands. No logo or sign of what was in it, though.  
  
“Hello, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice amplified by the bugs crawling all over her body and mask. I shivered, several unpleasant memories flashing through my mind. “Sorry about that,” Skitter added in a normal, slightly muffled voice, tugging at her mask.  
  
“Not a problem,” I said calmly, shoving the memories back where they belonged. “How did your meeting go?”  
  
“About as well as could be expected,” Skitter said, plopping down in her desk chair and spinning around to face me. “I see you’ve done a wonderful job here,” she added, transparently changing the subject. I kept my disappointment off my face. No chance for clues there, it seemed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the floor this shiny.”  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, feeling more pride then I should over such a menial task.  
  
“And that makes me feel good about this,” Skitter said, opening the bag and looking into it. “It will be a reward for all your hard work.” She looked back up at me and smiled, looking far too smug. “Go and get yourself ready,” she jerked her head towards the bathroom. “I’ll be done in a minute.”  
  
What the heck did she have in there? I told myself I would be finding out in a minute or two.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, heading towards the bathroom. As I went, Skitter stood up and headed for the stairwell.  
  
Skitter was back down before I was done making sure I was ready for whatever butt stuff she was planning. I opened the bathroom door, and stopped dead in my tracks. Skitter was leaning against the back of the couch, looking at me and smiling widely.  
  
She was wearing her sleepware, a light, pale t-shirt and tight shorts peeking out from underneath the large, loose shirt. She looked surprisingly cute like that. But the main thing I noticed was the large, black dildo jutting out from her hips. I could see the black cords winding across her hips, keeping it in place.  
  
“Hello, Missy,” Skitter said, smiling at me. “Come over here, and I’ll reward you for being such a good maid tonight.”  
  
My legs felt like jelly as I walked across to her, and my mouth was as dry as a desert. I knew what was going to happen. Skitter was going to bend me over the couch or the desk or _anything_ , and then she was going to fuck me. She was going to use that thick shaft jutting out from her hips to mess me up, absolutely _ruin_ me as she fucked me hard. And it was going to feel good.  
  
And then Skitter surprised me. As I got close to her, she reached out and grabbed my shoulders. She twirled the two of us around, falling backwards onto the couch, and taking me with her. I squeaked as I ended up sprawled on her lap, facing her. Her face was only inches away from mine.  
  
“You did a _really_ good job today, Missy,” Skitter whispered quietly, “I’m glad I going to get to use this right after buying it.”  
  
I nodded, my heart going a mile a minute. Somehow, this felt even… more intense, that was the only word I could think of, then getting bent over and fucked. If Skitter didn’t change anything, I was going to be looking right into her face as she fucked me.  
  
Skitter’s hands ran down the sides of my body, before sliding underneath me. I felt her hands pressing against my rear, lifting me upwards. I did so, working to center myself over the dildo jutting out from her. I could feel the warmth of her hands as she squeezed my butt.  
  
“You look so pretty like this,” Skitter whispered, making me blush even harder. “That look of embarrassment on your face-“ she shook her head, smiling.  
  
I had to admit that Skitter looked nice too. Kind of. It was hard to explain. Her body wasn’t all that great, solidly average, or, in some respects, even worse (I was younger then her, and, even though puberty was mostly passing me by, I still had breasts that were as big as hers). But there was something about the way she carried herself that was so attractive. I didn’t have the words to explain it properly, but the way she always seemed so sure of herself, telling me what to do, it really made me feel… something.  
  
It kind of reminded me of Dean, all those years ago. It had been so long since I had crushed on him, that I could barely remember what it had felt like. Surely not like this, though. Dean had been a _hero_ , someone who fought for what was good and right, and accepted oversight and could be called to account for his actions. Also, he was _really_ cute.  
  
Skitter? Skitter wasn’t any of that. So why was I feeling a warmth in my chest when I was pressed up against her? And it wasn’t just the heat from getting turned on, knowing that someone was about to make me feel _really_ good.  
  
“Everything alright?” Skitter asked quietly, her eyes, large behind her glasses, searching my face. “If this is too much…”  
  
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can do this.”  
  
Skitter smiled at me, reaching up to ruffle my hair. Then her hand went back to playing with my ass, occasionally creeping up to run her fingers along my lower back. I could feel her strap-on brushing against the sides of my thighs, and occasionally the muted pressure against the metal of my belt.  
  
“Here we go,” Skitter said, her hands sliding to my hips and slowly pushing me downwards.  
  
I sank downwards after her, biting my lip as I felt the head of the dildo press against the entrance of my ass. Skitter looked into my eyes as I slowly impaled myself on the toy. Somehow, this felt so much more intimate then Skitter stripping me naked and fucking me on a table or anything. We were looking at each other, and we could both see every single detail of each other.  
  
Skitter seemed so much more… _more_ this close to me. Facing her like this, I could take in the details I normally missed. Smell, for one. There was just the faintest hint of exertion to her, but not any kind of perfume whatsoever. And I couldn’t see any signs of makeup. And that was _really_ unusual for a cape.  
  
Even the guys did so, at least around their eyes to make a smooth transition from whatever color their mask or helmet was to their eyes. And there were a couple capes I knew or had heard about who went even further. Rouge, lipstick, making themselves look not just badass but sexy.  
  
I didn’t know much about makeup, but I thought I could still make Skitter look prettier if she used it. Not _pretty_ , but still looking better then she did now. I filed that thought away for later consideration.  
  
As for the rest of Skitter, well, I knew what she looked like long before I ever decided to try and sneak into the party. Pictures of her and Hellhound often made the rounds of the Wards. Glasses that came or went, hazel eyes, long, black hair that blended in well with the swarms of bugs circling around her… It was all Skitter.  
  
“See something you like?” Skitter asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
“No, um, yes…” I said, trying to think of what I was supposed to say. “I mean, I’m ready to go, ma’am!” My sentence ended with a pretty strangled squeak as a wave of embarrassment washed over me.  
  
Skitter looked far too amused for her own good. But she, thankfully, didn’t say anything. Instead, she grabbed my hips, her fingers pressing down against the fabric. I took a deep breath and nodded.  
  
We both pushed down together, forcing my butt to open up and accept the intruder. I shuddered, feeling the sensations running through me.  
  
“Oh!” I gasped, feeling the toy slid into me.  
  
It felt bigger then the toys Skitter normally used on me. Maybe it was, or maybe I was just feeling a lot more, uh, aware then I normally did. Either way, I had to lean forward and grab onto Skitter’s t-shirt, my hands balling into fists as I felt my tightest hole getting stretched out.  
  
Assuming it still _was_ my tightest hole. It was nobody’s business where I had picked up that phrase, but I was quite aware that the only thing that went into my pussy was one, rarely two, of my fingers. My ass, though, was stretched out by Skitter and her toys on a pretty regular basis.  
  
At any rate, I gasped as Skitter slid into my ass. My mouth opened, and I moaned, feeling her going deeper and deeper inside of me. I slowly sank downwards, my thighs pressing more and more against her own legs.  
  
I was starting to feel really turned on. My nipples were stiff, which made the vibrators taped to them feel even weirder than normal. And my pussy was getting wet, drops of arousal leaking out of me to slide through the chastity belt ‘protecting’ my pussy from myself.  
  
I wondered how good Skitter was feeling herself. I knew that some strap-ons came with a second shaft that went inside the wearer. Was Skitter stuffed with a matching black dildo inside her pussy, even as she brought me down onto this one? Or was she just feeling good from the sight of me getting fucked.  
  
My hands jerked across her chest. Partly, that was on accident. But I also wanted to see if I could tell if Skitter was enjoying herself as well.  
  
I discovered three things. One was that Skitter didn’t wear a bra. At least, not to bed. The second was that her nipples were just as hard as mine underneath her shirt. The third was that Skitter was surprisingly okay with her hired help groping her.  
  
“Find something you like?” Skitter repeated herself almost exactly, laughing, her eyes, through her glasses, sparkling.  
  
My hands stayed where they were, pressing against Skitter’s breasts through the thin t-shirt. They weren’t very large breasts, but I could still feel a bit of give and squish to them. I wouldn’t have minded getting spend more time playing with them, but I had been asked a question, and needed to give an answer. And ‘boobies’ wouldn’t be a very good response, I somehow suspected.  
  
“Um,” I eloquently responded. “My hands just slipped?”  
  
Oh, that was smooth, Missy, I thought to myself. Who could ever doubt such a convincing story. Right up there with ‘I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to eat the cookies that had someone else’s name on them’, or ‘I don’t know how that safe got unlocked.’ If I was going to sneak around Skitter, I was going to need to learn to lie better.  
  
“Really?” Skitter asked, her hands pressing down on my hips. “Then why don’t we make sure that you’re more firmly secured.”  
  
“Okay,” I muttered, feeling a blush on my cheeks and a smile on my face. I didn’t actually feel all that bad about it.  
  
Then Skitter really pressed down, and drove all thoughts about her chest from my mind. It was like a bolt of electricity had shot up my spine, racing straight from my rear all the way up to my brain. I straightened up, my head arching back to look at the ceiling as Skitter’s shaft filled me up.  
  
“Ah!” I moaned, getting forced down further onto Skitter’s dildo. I could feel the shaft stretching me out, filling me up as she forced my walls apart. It sent a shiver of arousal through me, one that was slow to die down. “Skitter!”  
  
“I’m here, Missy,” Skitter said, her smile so wide it should have dropped off her face. “I’m right here.”  
  
I gasped, my shoulders rising and falling as I panted for breath. This was all so much more intense, so much _better_ then her normal rewarding sessions went. I stared into her eyes, seeing the hazel orbs sparkle with delight as she watched me. How long had she been planning this? Had she just bought the toy on her way back, or had she been waiting for a while for a chance to reward me for good service? And her reward would be to watch me get filled up with her fake dick.  
  
Well, then I should really give her a show, shouldn’t I? I wasn’t down at the base of the shaft yet, but I still pulled myself, feeling the wonderful tingle as the shaft slowly slid out of me. And then I pushed myself back down. It was easier this time, and it felt just as good.  
  
“Oh!” I gasped, feeling a bolt of heat run up my spine and flow into my brain. It felt wonderful, and so did the smile Skitter gave me. I smiled back, shyness and embarrassment coloring it as I pushed myself back up. I could do this, fuck myself on the supervillain’s cock while she watched me.  
  
Skitter’s hand ran up my maid dress, letting me feel the light pressure through the fabric. Then I groaned, feeling a whole lot more pressure as she started to play with my nipples. I gasped, and then winced. Skitter had accidently torn the vibrators off of my nipples. I could feel the plastic nubs falling down into my dress, pooling at the bottom of my stomach.  
  
“Sorry,” Skitter said, actually looking and sounding sorry, even if not to a great extent. “Did that hurt?”  
  
“Kind of,” I said, wincing and looking down at my chest, as if I could see through my outfit. “Uh, ma’am,” I belatedly added.  
  
“Again, sorry about that,” Skitter said. “Want me to rub them and make them feel better?”  
  
So that was the limits of her sorrow. Of course, it didn’t actually hurt that much. The pain was already fading, even as my nipples rubbed against the fabric of my maid outfit.  
  
“Maybe later?” I said, not sure if I was putting her off, or setting up some fun for later. “Right now, I just-oh!”  
  
My movements up and down the shaft had gotten kind of erratic as I talked to Skitter. Right then, I had leaned to the side, and discovered what it really felt like to have a dildo shift around inside of my ass. It felt far better than I would have thought.  
  
I stopped, closing my eyes. Then I did it again, wiggling my hips from side to side and back and forth. It felt _wonderful_. Pretty close to the up and down motion I had been doing, but still slightly different. I wanted to feel it again.  
  
I did so, while also moving up and down. My hips (and the rest of my body) shook as I rode Skitter, feeling wonderful as I did so. I smiled up at Skitter, my lips twitching up in one big smile. She smiled down at me.  
  
“Isn’t it nice to be a good girl?” Skitter quietly asked, words that were for my ears only. “A good maid should get to feel good about how well she does. And you do feel good, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I moaned in answer, passing over how often ‘good’ was used in that sentence. “You’re, you’re filling me up and it feels so nice!”  
  
I started to really fuck myself on Skitter’s shaft. And it was _me_ doing the fucking. Skitter’s hands were still on my body, but she wasn’t doing anything. She was just letting me do all the work, rising up and down, impaling myself on her fake cock. Her hands played with my ass, half underneath my short skirt and half staying above the clothing.  
  
I felt so good, living in the moment. When the urge hit me, I didn’t think twice about it. I didn’t even think once about it. The idea came to me and, before I could even really consider any part of it, I did it.  
  
I leaned forward, pressing my lips against Skitter’s. The kiss didn’t last for very long, just long enough for me to realize what I was doing. Then I yanked my head back, cheeks going red. I had just kissed Skitter!  
  
Sure, it didn’t seem that a kiss was as extreme as getting fucked in the ass or spanked by her, but, but it _was_. Getting fucked and spanked by Skitter was part of my job. But me reaching out to kiss her? Kisses were what girlfriends and boyfriends did with each other, not what the employee did to their boss.  
  
Skitter looked just as surprised as I was. Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead and she looked down at me in stark surprise. I blushed heavily, looking down. If I had the strength, I would have tried to pull myself up off of the dildo and would try to get away.  
  
“Missy,” Skitter said calmly, her voice obviously not showing anything she was feeling. “Look at me.”  
  
Swallowing nervously, I looked upward. I wasn’t even certain why I was nervous. Logically sure, at least. There were plenty of emotional reasons to be nervous.  
  
“Do you know why you kissed me, Missy?” Skitter asked. Her face was very calm and neutral, except for some tightness at the corner of her eyes.  
  
“I, well… no,” I said, telling the truth. “I just felt like it, so I did. I’m, um, I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure if I should be apologizing.  
  
“I don’t think you should be sorry,” Skitter said slowly. “I liked it. It was a surprise,” yeah, for the both of us, “but I liked it.”  
  
I wasn’t certain what exactly she was saying. Did she like kissing because kissing was fun? Or did she like the kissing because she was okay with her and me being - My mind quickly swapped that phrase out for another. Being more then just a maid and her mistress?  
  
For that matter, why did I like it? What exactly was I looking for from Skitter? Information to disrupt her criminal activities, obviously. But was there anything else? There wasn’t, surely, right?  
  
I opened and closed my mouth, trying to think of something to say. Or even flat out trying to think. My fragmented thoughts were chasing each other all around themselves inside my mind. I shifted, feeling the dildo moving around inside of me.  
  
“Missy?” Skitter asked, reaching up to cup my cheek in her bare hand. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I, I don’t know,” I said, stammering over my words. “I just, I, I…”  
  
Skitter reached around me and pulled me forward into a hug. I gasped as I was pressed against her body, my head hitting the top of her chest. Her body was so warm, radiating heat through her t-shirt.  
  
“It’s okay, Missy,” Skitter said, hugging me tightly. One hand ran through my short blonde hair. “You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. You can just stay here.”  
  
I nodded, my face pressed against her. I returned the hug, my arms meeting behind her. I was shivering, feeling so many emotions running through me at once.  
  
Was this what Flechette had felt like, trying to decide if she was going to go with Parian and become a villain? This tightness in her chest, unable to tell what was right and what was wrong? It was all so confusing to me, trying to reconcile what I had just done with what I knew.  
  
Skitter was a villain. She and her friends had taken over the city, ruling as dictators, puppeteering the mayor and the PRT when they weren’t issuing orders outright. They had hurt my friends, hurt _me_ , time and time again. I shouldn’t want anything from them except to watch as they were thrown into jail.  
  
So why had I kissed Skitter? Was it because she was making me feel good? She had made me feel good before, and I hadn’t kissed her. And there had been all those emotions inside of me I had refused to dwell on, emotions that had started before she slid that toy inside of me.  
  
I hadn’t wanted to think of it before now, but was I actually developing a crush on Skitter? That, that just seemed so wrong. And also so cliched. I could name half a dozen stories about a superhero falling for a supervillain, or vice versa. And I had always, _always_ rolled my eyes so hard at how stupid and unrealistic the writers were.  
  
But why else would I have kissed Skitter if I wasn’t attracted to her? Even if it was just lust, my body wanting to be even closer to someone making me feel good, I had still moved from getting a reward for my hard work to acting like Skitter was my girlfriend. It was just- I had no words for what I was feeling. I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling.  
  
“Missy?” Skitter asked quietly, her hand moving in circles along my back. “Are you feeling okay?”  
  
“I don’t know,” I said, not taking my face away from Skitter’s chest. “I just… I don’t know,” I finished lamely.  
  
“Do you want to stop?” Skitter asked, still running her hand in circles along my back. “We could do something else. You could even go home and think things over if you want to.”  
  
“No,” I said so quickly I didn’t even have time to think about my answer. “I want to stay here with you.”  
  
I could feel Skitter slowly nod. I turned my face to the side, staring out at the room. I could hear Skitter’s heart now, with my ear pressed against her body. It was going at a faster than normal pace. Well, at least I wasn’t the only one feeling confused about what I had just done. Or what it all meant.  
  
“Skitter?” I asked, sounding horribly unsure. I tried to put more confidence in my voice. “Do you like me?”  
  
“Do I-? Yes, of course I like you,” Skitter said, her hand momentarily pausing. “You’re cute, you’ve got a sense of humor, and we can both make each other feel good.” At that, her hips twitched, maybe involuntarily, shifting the dildo around inside of me.  
  
“So do you think of me as a friend?” I asked, still unsure where I was going with this.  
  
“Kind of, yes,” Skitter said after pausing for a few seconds. “I mean, I’m still your boss, just like for Charlotte and all the others. But I do like spending time with you.”  
  
Now it was my time to nod slowly. And I liked spending time with Skitter as well. Even when it was embarrassing, like being sent down to the kitchen naked, there was still a strange thrill to it all.  
  
And I knew there was a word for a person you liked to spend time with that you also had sex with. But could I really bring myself to think of Skitter as my girlfriend? That just sounded so completely, utterly ridiculous.  
  
I would need some time to think this over. And maybe talk about it someone, if there was anybody around I could talk to. But I would also need a clear head to think about that stuff. And I was still feeling kind of horny right now. There was one, obvious way to get my head clear enough that I could figure out if I, Vista, was going to be Skitter’s girlfriend.  
  
“I think I’m better, now,” I said. “Can we start again?” My voice was pretty soft.  
  
“If you’re sure you want to, then we can,” Skitter said, still sounding a bit doubtful.  
  
“I am,” I replied, nodding and feeling my face make the t-shirt bunch up and contract.  
  
Putting actions to words, I pushed myself back, looking at Skitter. She looked back at me, studying my face even as I studied hers. She looked thoughtful, and I was willing to bet anything that, after I was gone, she would be doing some serious thinking about the two of us.  
  
Then I let myself start sinking down the dildo still inside of me. It felt nice, even now, with lust warring with all the other emotions inside of me. I tried to concentrate on the feeling, bringing back the lust I had been feeling before I kissed Skitter.  
  
I even managed to get turned back on. It wasn’t as good as it had been, feeling nothing but a glorious happiness as Skitter fucked me. But it still felt nice. I bounced up and down, tiny gaps escaping my lips. All the while, I felt Skitter staring at me, a smile slowly forming on her face.  
  
“Feeling better, Missy?” Skitter asked. Her hand disappeared from me.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered loyally. And it was even kind of true. The arousal was building up inside me, and I was focusing on it, forcing the emotional tumult inside of me to one side.  
  
“Then this should make you feel even better,” Skitter said, sounding archly triumphant.  
  
Her hand reappeared, holding a familiar pink control. She flipped it on. I immediately heard the vibrators turn on, buzzing for all they were worth.  
  
And I immediately started laughing. I couldn’t help it! The vibrators were pressed right up against my stomach, buzzing around and tickling me. I tried to stop the giggles, but they still escaped from my lips as I started twisting around on Skitter’s lap.  
  
Skitter was smiling too, though she was looking a bit confused. She stared down at my lower stomach, where the toys were thrashing around.  
  
“I think we need to take you to a doctor, Missy,” she said, speaking up to be heard over my giggles. “Your nipples seem to have migrated.”  
  
“Oh, he, he, they fell off,” I managed to get out. “Turn it off, turn it off!”  
  
I had fallen forward, once more pressing myself against Skitter’s chest. I was laughing hard, harder then I had for a long time. It wasn’t even that I was that ticklish. I knew I was unloading onto Skitter, the knot of tension from everything that had happened tonight coming undone in a really goofy way.  
  
Chuckling, Skitter turned the vibrators off. I gasped as they stopped. I also sat down, driving myself as far down the dildo as I could, mostly by accident. I was still laughing and squirming on Skitter’s lap.  
  
“So just how ticklish are you, Missy?” Skitter asked in a tone that promised quite a bit more wandering fingers if I said I was.  
  
“Not very,” I quickly replied. It just took me by surprise.” I had to speak around my giggles, and there was a wide smile on my face.  
  
“I see,” Skitter said, obviously not believing me. “Then I won’t put that feather duster to another use. Today.” Oh no. “But it is getting late. Why don’t we wrap this up, and you can get your complete reward for being such a good maid.”  
  
The promise of an orgasm was always nice to hear. Still smiling and feeling a bit lightheaded, I started riding Skitter again, bobbing up and down the shaft lodged in my ass. I turned my head to get more comfortable, since I was starting to feel kind of weak and unsteady.  
  
I could feel the arousal building up and up inside of me. My pussy was getting wetter and wetter, and I could feel it seeping out through the chastity belt. I’d have to put my outfit in the wash before I went home.  
  
My hands were clutching down on Skitter’s shoulders, my small fingers digging down through the t-shirt. Her hands were wrapped around me in a hug, and I could feel the gentle pressure through the black fabric of my maid costume. Part of me hoped that she was feeling just as good as I was. The other part of me wasn’t interested in anything but my own orgasm, which was getting closer every second.  
  
“That’s a good maid,” Skitter whispered into my ear. “Just keep fucking yourself on my cock like that. You know you want to, fill up that tight little butt of yours. Come on, do it harder, show me what my little maid wants.”  
  
Skitter’ hands were still hugging me, but now they were hugging my rear. She had slipped underneath my dress and was playing with my butt. It felt nice, though not as nice as the shaft inside of me.  
  
“Ma’am,” I moaned, the title coming reflexively to me. “Ma’am, I’m going to cum, I’m going to _cum_!”  
  
It would be any second now. I could feel the arousal burning inside me, needing a way out. My hips jerked, shifting from side to side and back and forth as I bounced along Skitter’s shaft. Every movement pressed the dildo against my walls in a new way, making every movement feel even better then the last one. I was getting so, so close to my orgasm.  
  
“Cum for me,” Skitter demanded, tilting my head back so I looked into her eyes. “Let me see your face as you cum.”  
  
I stared into her face, as unable to look away as a mouse could look away from a snake. I gasped, trying to say something, and completely unable to. Small, meaningless noises tumbled from my lips as I felt the orgasm breaking inside of me.  
  
I collapsed against Skitter, her hand still pointing my chin up to her. I closed my eyes, hips juddering against the shaft inside of me. I didn’t have any idea of what kind of faces I was making, but I was hoped that Skitter was satisfied seeing them. I, meanwhile, was feeling satisfied from getting to cum.  
  
My fingers curled up around her shoulders, digging into her. I could feel my pussy squeezing down, clamping around nothing. And arousal ran out from between my lower lips, a small cascade of honey. I panted and gasped for breath, already feeling the pleasure dying down inside of me.  
  
And it still felt good. It wasn’t as good as some of the orgasms I had had (all of them from Skitter, oddly enough), but it still felt good. And I knew why this orgasm had been weaker then the others, and it had nothing to do with the position or that Skitter had a big black cock jutting out from her crotch. I would be willing to try again, sitting on Skitter’s lap as she fucked my ass.  
  
“That was really beautiful,” Skitter said, a smile in her voice. I opened my eyes to stare at her. “You really look cute when you’re cumming, Missy.”  
  
I blushed, feeling a surge of warmth inside of me. That was nice to hear. When had I last been told I looked cute? And not by my parents, who were contractually obligated to say that. Not my friends in school, because I didn’t have any that I ever saw outside of school. And not from the other Wards, because we all got the monthly briefings about why romantic relations inside the program were a bad idea.  
  
It had been a while, I supposed, not wanting to think about it any more.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” I answered. “You too.”  
  
Wait, had I ever seen Skitter’s face when she came? I didn’t think so. I was pretty certain my face had always been buried between her thighs whenever she came.  
  
“You know what I mean,” I finished lamely.  
  
“Of course I do,” Skitter replied, shifting her hands to once more grab my ass. She helped lift me off of the dildo, and I gasped, feeling the shaft pop out of me. “And I’m looking forward to seeing that face a lot more often.”  
  
I blushed again and nodded. I slowly inched myself backwards, off of Skitter’s lap and stood up. Or tried to, at least. I gasped as my legs went weak, and I almost fell into Skitter’s lap. She caught me, stopping me from planting my face against the dildo that had just been in my ass.  
  
“You okay?” Skitter asked, standing up to better support me.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, gingerly standing up and making sure not to move my legs. “I’m good, ma’am.”  
  
“In that case,” Skitter said, nodding to her desk, “your pay is right over there.”  
  
I glanced over at the desk, and saw the usual bundle of twenty dollar bills. Another nice payday, for getting to cum and doing a bit of light cleaning. And all it took was the very real risk of getting caught and finding out what sadistic, permanent punishment the infamously inventive Skitter would give to a spy.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, wincing a bit as pins and needles bit into my legs. “Is there anything else you need from me tonight?”  
  
“No, I don’t think so. It’s late enough I wouldn’t want to keep you up. See you later, Missy.”  
  
I nodded, and briefly bowed. I was feeling tired, and it was late. But the time meant that it was the perfect chance to go check out the safe or storehouse or whatever it was. Either whoever was there would be sleeping, or they would be awake and doing whatever criminal activities they did there.  
  
Ten minutes later, I was dressed in something that wasn’t a pervert’s wet dream (even if I did look good in it). I was in street clothes, with the only things around my hips my panties and my jeans. And I was headed towards Gilman, to see what I could find there.  
  
I briefly wondered if anybody was going to comment on a girl my apparent age (a few years younger then my real age, sadly) poking around a back alley at this time of night. I hoped not. At this time of night, it was likely that anyone who did so would be petty criminals. And from here to a few streets beyond Gilman was all Skitter’s territory.  
  
It would be problematic to explain to Skitter why her maid was at that part of town, and how I had taken down whatever rabble had been harassing me. And why I had used Vista’s signature powers to help defend myself. And then there would be the trouble of explaining to the PRT why I had used my powers outside of costume. Being under attack was a good reason, obviously, but it would still get into questions about why I was there, instead of at home in bed.  
  
And you know, I did have a patrol tomorrow. And it was in this general direction. I could easily get Toggle to swing by with me to check it. The biggest problem was having oversight. The PRT _really_ didn’t like us doing stuff that could poke up a hornet’s nest. But at least if there was trouble Vista had a lot more tools then Missy would.  
  
I nodded. That was the plan, then, I supposed. Go make this all nice and official. And if I was lucky enough, Toggle and I might even be able to bust the whole thing, without giving anybody else (PRT or the Undersiders) a chance to respond.  
  
And in the meantime, I could think about just why exactly I had kissed Skitter, and what that would mean.


	8. MtS: Bank Job

**  
**  
“Vicky!” Amy snarled, wheeling around on her sister. She was doing her best to keep her emotions under control but it was very, _very_ hard.  
  
“Amy!” Victoria said, flying over to her sister, over the kitchen island, guilt and horror written all over her face. “Amy, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt like that, I’m sorry, is there _anything_ I can do to apologize?”  
  
Amy kept on glaring at her, rubbing the white bandage around her forearm. Wasn’t that the very fucking definition of irony? Panacea the famous healer had gotten hurt, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Everybody else was walking away from the robbery with a spring in their step and not even a bruise, while Amy was going to have to deal with a cut two inches long (and not even a quarter of that deep, thankfully) for the next month or so.  
  
This anger had been bubbling up inside of Amy for the past hour and a half. It had been all she could do to keep it bottled up until they got back to their (otherwise empty) home. And now, there was nothing to keep it in check anymore.  
  
“Apologize? Apologize?” Amy asked, almost screaming the words. “I’d say you could watch what you’re fucking doing, but I already told you to do that a dozen times! And you still just came slamming through the ceiling like you’re Alexandria!”  
  
Victoria, Glory Girl, was still in her white and gold costume, was still flying a few inches above the ground and looked almost pristine. And she was still cowering in front of her smaller, banged-up sister, who was wearing nothing more then so-so street clothes. In fact, Victoria’s eyes were red enough to suggest that she had been crying before coming to see Amy.  
  
“Amy, Amy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think there was going to be _anyone_ underneath the roof! Just maybe some of the bad guys.”  
  
Victoria was wringing her hands together, glancing away at Amy constantly, at the door, the windows, the walls, anything that would let her avoid her sister’s face.  
  
“Well, there was, wasn’t there?” Amy said harshly. “There was me, there was half a dozen other hostages, two of which got a _concussion_ from the debris. And those Undersiders _still_ got away. God, Victoria!”  
  
Amy ran her good hand through her messy brown hair, joining Victoria in looking away from her sister.  
  
“I thought you were getting better, Victoria. Looking before you leap, you know? I really did.”  
  
“I _am_ , Amy,” Victoria said, reaching out to take Amy’s hand before hesitating and withdrawing it. “I was. You’ve got to believe me.”  
  
“Why?” Amy asked, taking a step forward. “Why should I believe you? You said you were being more careful, and now look at this!” Amy lifted her wounded arm and shook it, making the spot where a fragment of metal had cut her dance in front of Victoria’s eyes. “We didn’t even capture _one_ of the Undersiders. Every single one of them got away with all their money. God, Vicky, I was this close, this fucking close,” Amy pinched her fingers together, “to clocking that bug girl with a fire extinguisher when you came crashing down like God from on high.”  
  
“Amy,” Victoria said, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “I am so, so sorry. I’m _trying_ to do better. But it’s just so, so hard.”  
  
Amy opened her mouth to say something new. Then she looked at her sister’s distraught face and thought better of it. Closing her mouth, she breathed in and out, before sighing heavily.  
  
“Okay. Okay,” Amy said, lifting her hands. “I, I believe you’re trying. But you’ve got to try _harder_ , okay?” Victoria frantically nodded. “And I think I know how to make certain that you do.” Victoria stiffened at that, a mix of emotions washing over her face. “Come on, up to my room.”  
  
Amy turned on her heel and stalked towards the stairs, doing her best to keep her anger under control. She was going to need to be in charge soon, not her heart. Even if, even if- Amy shook her head, grimacing. Even if she was still mad, she needed to keep herself under control.  
  
Victoria followed Amy into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Victoria was starting to look more nervous now, worried about the future, instead of fretting over what she had done. Amy glanced back at her before going over to her dresser and pulling open a drawer.  
  
“Victoria,” Amy said, staring down at what was inside it. “I want you to know that even though I’m disappointed in what you’ve done, I’m still willing to,” Amy took a deep breath, “forgive you and help you keep on improving.”  
  
“Right,” Victoria said nervously. “Um, thank you for that, by the way. I,” Victoria took a deep breath, “I know it may not seem like much, but I really am being more careful.”  
  
“But not more careful _enough_ ,” Amy said, lifting her creations out of the dresser. “I was hoping I would never have to use these,” a lie but so what? “But you aren’t giving me a choice, Vicky.”  
  
Amy could see Victoria’s nervousness as she stared down at what Amy was holding. Her blonde, beautiful sister swallowed heavily, shifting from side to side, still flying in the air.  
  
“Um,” Victoria eloquently said. “I’m, I’m not a dog, Amy. I really don’t see why I would need that sort of thing.”  
  
“Really?” Amy asked, holding up the leash and collar. “You’re certainly acting like some half-trained dog who doesn’t know how strong she is. I think this is all _very_ appropriate for you.”  
  
Amy could see Victoria’s throat working as she stared at the black leather leash and collar. She was actually very proud of them. She hadn’t bought them from a store and called it a day. Instead, both of these were laced with organic matter that was an exact match of Victoria’s. Amy was hoping it would be enough to fool Victoria’s power, and let Amy feel her adopted sister’s biology, just by fingering the large patch of organic matter at her end of the leash.  
  
“Can you put it on, or do you need me to do it?” Amy asked, twirling the leather collar around on one finger.  
  
“I, I,” Victoria stammered, looking at the black collar with wide eyes. She didn’t say anything after the initial stammering.  
  
“I’ll do it, then,” Amy said, sighing heavily.  
  
Amy realized it was remarkable how quickly her anger had passed. She was still upset with Victoria’s carelessness and recklessness, but she wasn’t ready to break her hand slapping Victoria’s forcefield anymore. Maybe it was the thought of getting to do this with her beloved Victoria that made her anger pass so quickly.  
  
Popping the collar open, Amy fastened it around Victoria’s neck. After a few seconds, the forcefield bubbled up around it, meaning that the organic matter on the inside of the collar was pressing against Victoria’s bare neck.  
  
Picking up the leash, Amy nodded. She could feel every single bit of Victoria’s body now, without having to slowly press her hand through the forcefield and hoping Victoria didn’t move enough to dislodge her. Perfect, just as good as she could have hoped for.  
  
Of course, that didn’t mean making Victoria wear a leash and collar was the extent of her attempt to get her adopted sister to learn how to control herself. Far from it, really. This next part, well, it would be a step up from what they had done before. But so was the leash and collar and Victoria had agreed to that easily enough.  
  
“Victoria,” Amy said, keeping her voice as level as possible. “I don’t want you to get your costume dirty. Dirtier,” she added, looking at the crushed bugs and dust on it from where the forcefield had failed. “Take it off.”  
  
“Off?” Victoria asked, her face going somewhat pale underneath her tan. And then faintly red.  
  
“Off,” Amy said, nodding firmly. “Just a spanking isn’t enough anymore, obviously.” Victoria’s mouth formed some words, but she stopped before she actually said them. “I’m obviously going to have to do _more_ with you now. So take your clothes off.”  
  
Victoria looked longingly at the door. As if their parents coming in would be helpful. When Victoria already had a leash and collar around her neck, with Amy holding the other end of it. Maybe that was what Victoria ended up thinking. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, she sighed and started tugging at her Glory Girl costume.  
  
Amy nodded in approval as Victoria started to remove the white and gold outfit. Her sister’s body was an absolute _gem_ , and, since Amy had already healed her up along with the rest of the Wards and hostages, there wasn’t a trace of her defeat on her flawless body.  
  
Amy’s lips thinned into a white line and her hand balled into a fist at her side as she watched Victoria remove more and more of her clothing. More and more smooth, perfectly tanned skin was revealed and Amy could feel her heart starting to race out of lust instead of anger as she stared. Oh, she was so lucky to have Victoria, even if she also needed to help Victoria become a better person.  
  
After the outer layers were removed, Victoria hesitated, her hands at her bra straps. She looked up at Amy, who nodded once. Victoria gulped, before removing her underwear as well. She was left completely naked, standing in front of Amy with only a collar on. That was a good look for Vicky, Amy thought. Though one that she would never, ever share with anybody else. Victoria, of course, had other opinions on the matter.  
  
“A spanking just doesn’t cut it, does it, Vicky?” Amy said, turning back to her dresser. And tugging on the leash, making Victoria stumble forward. Amy shivered, hearing the small gasp of surprise. “I’m going to need to do something a bit more… _intensive_.”  
  
And lo and behold, Amy had the exactly right tool on hand. How about that? It was almost as if Amy was more then a healer, and had some certain tastes and lots of privacy.  
  
Amy turned back around, smiling to see that Victoria was about half a foot closer to her now. And then smiling more widely as Victoria’s gaze snapped down to what Amy was holding. She closed her eyes to better savor the gasp Victoria let out.  
  
“I, is that a whip, Amy?” Victoria asked in a trembling voice.  
  
“Yes,” Amy said simply. She didn’t see a need to explain that it was more than a whip, it was another one of her creations, made out of plant matter. And, therefore, something she could control down to the smallest detail.  
  
“Why do you have a whip?” Victoria asked nervously, taking a long step backwards and making the leash go taut between them.  
  
“For _whipping_ ,” Amy answered, rolling her eyes. Honestly, for someone who was taking college classes, Victoria could be a bit slow sometimes.  
  
Victoria licked her lips, staring down at Amy’s hand, then at her face, and then at the ceiling. Finally, after a long pause, she started speaking.  
  
“Amy, I know you can get down in the dumps sometimes, but that’s no reason to-.”  
  
“Stop, Victoria,” Amy said flatly. “We both know this isn’t for me. It’s for _you_. If a spanking can’t make you behave, then maybe this will.”  
  
Amy experimentally cracked the whip, hiding her wince as the top third of it flatly hit her bed. For obvious reasons, she hadn’t had much of a chance to practice with it. Well, so long as she avoided hitting _herself_ , then it would all be good. Victoria didn’t need to actually feel the lash on her skin to get the effects, after all.  
  
Amy had already disabled Victoria’s ability to orgasm. Though not her ability to get turned on. She had also increased how sensitive Victoria’s skin was, and one or two other, minor modifications.  
  
“Victoria,” Amy said, softly but firmly. “I want you to turn around, and place your hands against the wall.”  
  
Victoria hesitated for a long moment, looking down at the whip and then up at Amy. Amy knew her sister was a smart girl. She could tell what was about to happen. And Victoria still turned around anyways.  
  
Victoria leaned over Amy’s bed, resting her hands just like she was told. Amy took a moment to appreciate the beauty of her sister’s body from behind. And Victoria was _very_ beautiful. From any angle, really, but from the back was still one of the better ones.  
  
The curve of her hips, the slight narrowing of the waist, it was the very picture of Amy thought the feminine ideal was. She could even see, just barely, the hint of Victoria’s breasts, swelling out from the sides. And, of course, there was the butt. A nice big butt, a lot better then Amy’s own, the result of so _much_ exercise. It was such a wonderful treat to sink Amy’s fingers into it, squeezing that fat rear, listening to the sounds Victoria made as her ass was played with.  
  
But it wasn’t the right time to do that now. Vicky _liked_ having her rear toyed with, and right now, what Victoria liked was _not_ what Amy intended to do. Her sister had messed up, and needed to be punished.  
  
“And here we go,” Amy muttered to herself as she wrapped the leash around a bed post in a hasty knot. It would be very easy to break or untie it, but Amy just needed it to be solid enough to stop Vicky from instinctively jerking away.  
  
Then, Amy stepped back and raised the whip. She looked at Victoria’s smooth, flawless skin. It was a damn good thing she was able to heal her sister up, because Amy planned to _punish_ that ass and back.  
  
“One!” Amy shouted as she cracked the whip.  
  
It went faster than her eyes could track, hitting Victoria and bouncing off the forcefield, not even causing it to flicker. Not that that helped Victoria. Through the leash, Amy made her adopted sister feel like the whip had indeed landed on her back, tracing a fiery line down her shoulder blade.  
  
“Gah!” Victoria cried, jerking her head back as the leash went taut. Her hands left the wall.  
  
“Put those back where they belong!” Amy growled, sounding as domineering and cruel as she could.  
  
And, sure enough, Victoria placed her hands back against the wall, trying to look over her shoulder at Amy. Even if Victoria was still not nearly well-behaved _enough_ , at least she understood what to do during punishment. Maybe that compliance would be worth something later. Then again, maybe not.  
  
“Two!” Amy swung the whip forward again.  
  
Just like last time, it bounced off of the forcefield. And just like last time, a red lash-mark appeared on Victoria’s ass, running across both cheeks. Victoria gasped, her back straightening and her hands almost leaving the wall. Amy smirked.  
  
She _knew_ how sensitive Victoria’s rear was. Her sister was quite weak to having her butt played with. A few good spanks could have Victoria moaning and groaning and getting quite wet. With a whip? Things would be getting even more… _intense_. And Victoria didn’t have the slightest idea how intense they were going to get.  
  
Amy drew the whip back and let it fly one more time. Another red mark appeared, cross-crossing the previous one. Victoria soulfully groaned and looked over her shoulder at Amy.  
  
“A-Amy?” Victoria asked, sounding far more hesitant then almost anyone would think.  
  
“What is it, Victoria?” Amy asked in a soothing tone.  
  
“Why- Why does it feel so intense? It’s like,” Victoria took a deep breath, quelling the wobble in her voice. “It’s like I can feel _everything_. I can even feel the air displaced by the whip before it lands on me.”  
  
“I made you more sensitive, of course,” Amy said, drawing the whip back. “Four!” She waited until Victoria stopped moaning in pleasure and pain. “And a few other things. You’ll figure them out, in time.”  
  
The look on Victoria’s face as she thought that over was _delightful_. Amy wished she could take a picture of it and save it to look at, years in the future. Instead, before the expression had a chance to fade, Amy delivered a fifth stroke to Victoria’s back.  
  
Victoria was practically dancing in place now, trying to deal with the too-sharp pain, that was turning into pleasure inside of her. Five red welts were on her back and rear, and Amy wished she could run her hands over them, see what Victoria did. Later, perhaps.  
  
“Turn around, Victoria,” Amy said, softly but confidently.  
  
There was a second’s pause, just long enough for Amy’s eyes to start to narrow. Then Victoria did so. She pushed off from the wall and reoriented herself.  
  
“Good,” Amy said. Not ‘good girl’, just ‘good’. Victoria hadn’t earned anything more yet.  
  
Though the sight of a naked, vulnerable Glory Girl right in front of her went a long way to moving Victoria up a notch, though. Those hips, that waist, those thighs (a perfect target, Amy noted). And those breasts, so big, so soft, so full, so _perfect_. And, best of all, Victoria’s face, what really made her _Victoria_. That wide-eyed expression, kind of pleading, full of vulnerability… God, Amy was already wet, but she was moving towards soaked, the longer she looked her sister in the eyes.  
  
“And now for another round,” Amy said softly, lifting the whip up and back.  
  
Victoria opened her mouth to say something, to ask Amy for mercy. Then she caught the look in Amy’s eyes and fell silent, staring at the ground. Amy nodded. That was good, at least.  
  
Then she lashed forward, the whip cracking as it struck Victoria’s forcefield, right above her belly. Even as it bounced off, a red diagonal mark appeared, half a foot long, running right over Victoria’s abs. Victoria gasped, throwing her head back, her hands balling into fists.  
  
“That’s the first one,” Amy said, sounding far more calm then she felt. “And I’m going to keep on going, front and back, until you learn your lesson. Understand, Victoria?”  
  
“Yes, Amy,” Victoria muttered in a voice choked with emotion. It sounded as sweet as honey to Amy.  
  
“Two!” Amy repeated herself, the whip landing on Victoria’s breasts.  
  
That got the most extreme reaction from Victoria yet. She half-moaned, half-screamed, shaking the house with her cry. Amy was glad they were alone. Amy still enjoyed the exclamation, both the sound itself and reason for it.  
  
Part of the reason was because the whip had landed across one of Victoria’s nipples. There was a red line, running right across it. It looked painful.  
  
The other was because Victoria’s hands shot to her crotch, covering her pussy. Amy had noticed how wet Victoria was getting, but hadn’t thought it the right time to comment on it. Now, though, it seemed quite appropriate to bring it up.  
  
“Oh God!” Victoria said, crossing her knees as her head bowed, as much as it could on the leash. “It feels… It feels…” Victoria’s cheeks had already turned red, but now it was more embarrassment then pain. “But it’s not enough!” Victoria cried plaintively, looking up at Amy with tears brimming in her eyes.  
  
“Not enough for you to cum?” Amy asked, running her hand along the whip. Victoria hesitated before nodding. “No, it’s not. _Nothing_ is going to be enough for you to cum, Victoria. I’m not doing this because you’re a pain slut who gets off on being hurt.” Victoria gasped quietly at the words. “I’m doing this because you need to be punished. Why should you get to cum for hurting me and all those other people?”  
  
Victoria was shaking underneath Amy’s words. The tears were starting to run down her cheeks. Amy ached to go over and comfort her sister, but stopped herself. There would be time for that later. Right now, Victoria needed to learn her lesson. Just words couldn’t possibly be enough. Victoria needed something to remember and think back on. And every time she felt her clothes press against her welts, she would remember how impulsive action could hurt her sister and others.  
  
So Amy raised her whip hand one more time. She noticed how closely Victoria’s eyes tracked the movement, and how her shoulders trembled with the effort of keeping them upright. At least Victoria’s hands remained by her sides.  
  
The third whip stroke landed on the insides of Victoria’s thighs, scoring a red line across the tanned skin. Amy watched, fascinated, as Victoria half sank down, moving to cover up her crotch from the next blow. How cruel did Victoria think Amy was? Of _course_ she wasn’t going to whip her beloved (adopted) sister right on the pussy.  
  
The fourth strike was right on Victoria’s breasts again, making the large orbs dance underneath the force. It was such a beautiful sight Amy almost forgot to breathe for a minute. God, she was going to love grabbing those breasts in her very own hands. Soon, very soon.  
  
The fifth stroke landed on Victoria’s stomach again, forming a  < sign. Victoria was crying pretty hard by now, her shoulders shaking even as she tried to keep herself upright, like a proper superheroine should. Through the leash, Amy knew how much pain Victoria was in. Her sisterly instincts came to the fore, and she stepped forward to comfort her sister.  
  
“Don’t worry, Victoria,” Amy said, putting her hand against Victoria’s cheek, awkwardly juggling that and the whip. “You’re such a big, tough, strong girl. I know you can take this.  
  
Her encouraging message delivered, Amy stepped back, raising the whip once again. Just a few more lashes, and Amy would be done. With this, at least.  
  
The whip flashed out yet again, sliding off the forcefield. A red mark spread across Victoria’s thighs again, so close to her pussy that Amy was sure Victoria could have felt the air brushing over her clit. And maybe that would be the next strike, landing right on her pussy. _That_ would give Victoria something to feel!  
  
And would probably discourage her from wearing the tight panties she preferred, Amy realized. The thought sent a shiver through her. Victoria, forced to go pantyless because it hurt too much to wear. And forced to wear skirts because of how sore her butt and thighs were.  
  
Amy always enjoyed flying around with Victoria, but if her sister was going to have that kind of fashion statement, Amy was fine with staying on the ground. And getting a crick in her neck from looking up all the time. Amy sighed, a smile appearing on her face.  
  
And then it disappeared as she whipped Victoria again. Victoria groaned, trying so, so hard to fight back the screams. Another line of pain appeared across Victoria’s breasts. Amy knew she was marring perfection, but she never could resist Victoria’s boobs, even now.  
  
“Amy, please,” Victoria begged, tears running down her eyes. “I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t do it again, I promise!” She took a deep breath, the confident, cocky, even arrogant Glory Girl reduced to this quivering mess. “Please, it hurts so much.”  
  
That was finally enough to make Amy stop. Looking at her sister, well, it was a hot sight, one that made her aroused. But she also loved her sister and didn’t want to see her in pain. This, finally, was the point where the two had to meet and stop each other.  
  
Amy dropped the whip on the floor. With her other hand, she tugged Victoria forward, yanking on the leash. At the same moment, she took a step forward, raising her arms.  
  
“It’s okay, Victoria, I won’t be whipping you anymore,” Amy said as she wrapped her sister in a hug.  
  
Almost instantly, Victoria buried her face in Amy’s hair. Amy squeaked, feeling the strong arms enveloping her, but she allowed it. After all, Victoria gave the best hugs in the world. Especially when she was naked and Amy could bury her face in between Victoria’s boobs.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Victoria said, crying into Amy’s hair. “I’m sorry, I’ll be better in the future.”  
  
“I know you will, Vicky,” Amy said softly, running her hands up and down Victoria’s back, her fingers gliding over the forcefields. “Once your punishment is over, I’m certain you’ll be the best-behaved superheroine in town.”  
  
Amy smirked as she felt Victoria stiffen in her arms. She knew she shouldn’t feel so amused by that, but the thought was just too funny. Victoria pulled away from Amy, flying a bit as she pressed against Amy’s hands. Amy let her sister go, sliding her hands around to the sides.  
  
“You, you mean it’s not over yet?” Victoria asked, her eyes wide and traces of tears still on her face. “But, but I thought-.”  
  
“I don’t know what you thought, but you thought wrong,” Amy said gently, taking a step forward and pushing Victoria down onto the bed. “I whipped you,” and by now Amy’s hands had sunk through the forcefield, so she could actually touch her sister’s skin, making Victoria gasp as her welts were directly touched. “Because you didn’t think and just charged in. But you still hurt me, Victoria,” Amy gestured, drawing attention to her bandage.  
  
Amy could tell that the knowledge that Victoria had hurt her sister weighed more heavily on her then any punishment Amy could dish out. Victoria looked like she was ready to start crying again, and this time, not from the physical pain. And a pretty ugly crying too.  
  
“Shh, shh,” Amy said softly, sliding her hand up Victoria’s body to cup her cheek and wipe away the tears. “Don’t cry.” Amy smiled up at her sister. “Yes, you hurt me because you were careless. But you didn’t hurt me too badly, not compared to some of the other hostages.” Amy knew it was bad she didn’t care that much about the other people who had been in the bank. “And I know how you can make it up to me.”  
  
“You do?” Victoria asked, reaching up to grab Amy’s hand in both of her own.  
  
“Yes,” Amy said simply. She paused for a moment, relishing in the wonderful, wonderful feeling of having someone so strong and confident and beautiful relying on her for guidance, needing to be ordered around. It was a far better rush then the sips of beer she had tried.  
  
“Victoria,” Amy said, as formally as she could. “In all our time doing… _this_ ,” Amy waved her hand around the two of them, “I’ve given you pleasure after pleasure after pleasure.” And plenty of pain too, but that wasn’t important right now. “You’ve cum every single time I’ve disciplined you.” Victoria nodded hesitantly.  
  
“But I haven’t even cum once.” And that was a complete and utter lie. Amy usually masturbated herself raw after a session with Victoria, once she was alone. “Does that seem fair to you?”  
  
“No?” Victoria said, shaking her head. The expression on her face made it clear that she understood what Amy was getting at. “Would- Would you like me to…” Vicky trailed off, her face turning even redder then the marks on her body.  
  
“Yes, Victoria,” Amy said, pushing Victoria down to her bed, “I want you to make me cum, to help make amends for the way you hurt me today.”  
  
There was a hint of nervousness inside Amy, as she wondered if, this time, she had finally pushed too far. If Victoria was going to refuse, to storm out and tell their parents. But mostly, Amy felt like she was riding on top of a wave, too high above the ground to ever fall. The confidence was beyond anything else she had ever felt, and Amy could feel the arousal surging up underneath it. She was going to make Victoria _earn_ her forgiveness.  
  
“If it makes it up to you,” Victoria said, so quietly she was almost whispering, “then,” she took a deep breath, “then I’ll make you cum.” Her eyes flickered up to Amy’s face. “How?”  
  
“How?” Amy asked. God, she had so many ideas on _how_. More then she could possibly do tonight, even if she had all the props and tools she would need to do even a fraction of them. “You have a beautiful face, Victoria,” Amy said, caressing it. “It would look even better in between my thighs. Don’t you think?”  
  
Victoria closed her eyes and shivered. Amy could tell what Victoria was feeling. How turned on she was. She didn’t even need to look at Victoria’s brain for that. The rest of her body provided all the clues she could possibly need.  
  
“Okay, Amy,” Victoria said, opening her eyes. “But I’ve never done this before. Don’t get mad if I make a mistake?” The pleading voice she used for her question was just too _cute_ to be believed. Amy just wanted to reach down and cuddle those cheeks. Maybe later.  
  
“Victoria, I only punish you when you do wrong when you know you should be doing right,” Amy said soothingly, petting her sister with one hand while fiddling with her pants with the other. “If you make a mistake now, you’re just making a mistake. Nothing more.”  
  
Victoria nodded, reassured. She reached up to help Amy get out of her jeans and panties. Amy was getting more and more turned on. Since she didn’t want to let go of Victoria, she stopped trying to pull down her underwear, and let Victoria do all the work.  
  
Amy stared down at Victoria as her sister pulled her blue-striped panties (if Amy had known this would happen this morning, she would have worn something sexier) down. Victoria gasped as, for the first time, she got a good look at Amy’s pussy. The expression on her face sent warm shivers down Amy’s spine and through her brain.  
  
Amy shivered slightly as the air blew over her bare pussy. She was so _wet_ from the thought of finally getting to have sex, even just oral sex, from Victoria. There was nobody else in the world she would rather be doing this with. Victoria was so utterly perfect, especially now, with the marks from Amy’s lesson all over her body.  
  
“Amy?” Victoria asked softly.  
  
“What, Vicky?” Amy asked, running her hands through her sister’s long blonde hair.  
  
“I’m, I’m going to start, okay?”  
  
It was such a cool change to see Victoria so unsure of herself. Amy _liked_ her sister’s confidence, the will to do almost anything. But seeing Victoria blushing and stammering was a good look on her as well. Especially because Amy knew what Victoria was blushing and stammering about.  
  
Victoria leaned her head forward, hesitating at the very last second. Then she planted a kiss on Amy’s crotch, her lips brushing over the slight stubble there. Amy gasped. It was already feeling better then she had thought it would. And Victoria wasn’t even at her actual pussy yet.  
  
Victoria sank down lower, her lips getting closer and closer to the real prize. Amy’s stroking of her hair redoubled, as she fought to keep her body still. It was so tempting to push Victoria down onto the bed and grind at her face. But that would send completely the wrong lesson here.  
  
Instead, Amy stood as still as she could manage and let Victoria continue her hesitant, wonderful explorations. She closed her eyes, to better feel the touch of Victoria’s mouth against her skin and her fingers against Amy’s thighs. This was something she could get used to.  
  
Finally, Victoria arrived at Amy’s pussy. She didn’t hesitate for a second, and went straight for Amy’s lips, not commenting on how soaked Amy was. Amy’s grip tightened on the top of Victoria’s head, her fingers digging against Victoria’s scalp. She had such a wonderful sister.  
  
“That’s it,” Amy whispered. “Keep on going.”  
  
Amy forced her eyes open to stare down at Victoria. At the red welts on Victoria’s back, and the swell of Victoria’s ass. At her long blonde hair, shaking slightly as Victoria moved her head. And at Victoria’s face, her beautiful eyes flicking between Amy’s own face and her pussy, making sure she was still doing a good job.  
  
Amy hadn’t thought it was possible to love her sister any more then she already did. But the sight and the feeling of Victoria working between her thighs proved her wrong. Amy felt like she could just _melt_ from what Victoria was doing. For someone who had never had oral sex (with anyone, hopefully, though Amy was willing to settle for with a woman), Victoria had a real talent for it. And Amy was sure that wasn’t just her own bias talking.  
  
“I’m sorry, Amy,” Victoria said, kissing Amy right on the lower lips.  
  
It felt _wonderful_. Amy bit down on her tongue to keep from squealing. As soon as she had mastered herself, she cleared her throat.  
  
“Do that again,” Amy said in as steady of a voice as she could manage.  
  
“I’m sorry, Amy,” Victoria repeated, staring up at Amy, her lips so close to Amy’s pussy Amy could feel the hot breath washing over her. “Please forgive me,” she added, placing another kiss on Amy’s pussy.  
  
“I’ll forgive you once you make me cum,” Amy said, her voice wobbling more than it should.  
  
Victoria briefly smiled. Then she stuck her tongue out and gingerly ran it along Amy’s pussy. It felt divine. Amy had to stop her hips from moving. Instead, she patted the top of Victoria’s head briefly.  
  
Encouraged, Victoria went to work. She didn’t have any real experience eating another girl out, but, then again, neither did Amy. All either of them could do was discover what made Amy feel good. And Victoria could be a very dedicated discoverer.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Victoria said, over and over again. Whenever she stopped using her mouth to apologize to Amy in one way, she used it in the other way. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Amy.”  
  
Both kinds of apologies were wonderful to Amy. She could feel her orgasm slowly rising as Victoria worked at her pussy. Her lips, her tongue, her fingers, they were all making Amy’s pussy feel better and better. If she wasn’t keeping both hands on top of Victoria’s head, she would have been playing with her breasts, making herself feel even better.  
  
Amy could tell how much pain Victoria was still in. Her sensitive body could still feel every single one of the whip marks across her breasts, belly, thighs, back and rear. It would take a long, long time for that pain to fade.  
  
And it would take just as long for the pleasure to fade. Amy could tell how turned on Victoria was, from being whipped, from being made to apologize to her sister in such an unifamilial way. Of course, even if Victoria took her hands away from Amy’s thighs and pussy and started masturbating, it still wouldn’t be enough to let her cum. Just like her heightened sensitivity and the whip marks across her body, Amy had made sure of that.  
  
Amy didn’t think that Victoria would be sitting down for a while. She would find it far too painful. Sure, that might lead to some questions if people noticed that Victoria was floating half an inch above her chair, but that was a problem Amy was willing to let Victoria deal with.  
  
The thought of a red-faced Victoria trying to explain to people why her butt was too sensitive to sit down on sent another throb of arousal through Amy’s body. She was getting close to orgasm, from an equal mix of her own vivid fantasies and Victoria’s clumsy, unskilled, wonderful ministrations. In just a few more minutes, Amy would have her very first orgasm in front of her sister. Wouldn’t that be fun?  
  
“You’re doing a good job,” Amy whispered in a husky voice. “Keep on going, Victoria. Keep on eating me out, just like that. Show me how sorry you feel.”  
  
Victoria nodded minutely, not enough to take her mouth away from Amy’s pussy. She kept on licking, slowly discovering what made Amy feel good. Not too much attention on the clit, that was just too sensitive for prolonged attention. But sliding into Amy’s pussy, forcing her lips apart and making Amy’s folds wrap around Victoria’s fingers or tongue, that felt wonderful. Amy’s breath was coming in harsher and harsher pants as she felt her orgasm rising inside of her.  
  
Finally, Amy reached her climax. Her breath hissed through her teeth, and her hips jerked forward, grinding against Victoria’s face. Amy gasped, feeling the pleasure racing through her body. It was wonderful, so much better then masturbating ever could be. Her lips drew back, baring her teeth in a sharp smile as she came.  
  
“Vi-Vicky!” Amy moaned, her fingers tightening around Victoria’s head. “Cumming, I’m cumming!”  
  
Amy staggered back, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly as the orgasm washed out of her. She stared down at Victoria, wide-eyed. Victoria looked up at her, a mix of emotions too complex to read washing across her arousal-smeared face.  
  
“You liked it, Amy?” Victoria asked, her real motivation for the question transparent.  
  
“Yes. Yes, I did,” Amy said, stepping forward again and patting the top of Victoria’s head. Her hand bounced off the forcefield, but her other hand had grabbed the leash. So Victoria still got to feel the impact of getting petted. “You did good, Victoria.”  
  
Victoria smiled at that, at getting petted like a good dog for having eaten out her adopted sister after getting whipped by the same girl. Amy could tell how much Victoria enjoyed this, having far more information at her disposal then just her eyes. Headpats would never be enough for Victoria to cum, but they sure made her feel better, just like kisses along her neck.  
  
“And yes, Victoria, I’m going to let you cum now,” Amy said, smiling sweetly at her sister.  
  
Victoria brightened up at that. Amy could almost see her tail waving back and forth. Now _there_ was an idea. Victoria with the tail and ears of a Golden Labrador. That… that was the best idea Amy thought she had had in a while. She’d have to talk to Victoria about that later, see if her sister was up for it.  
  
“But,” Amy said, exercising her power, “you’re going to have to do this on my terms. Understand?”  
  
Victoria nodded. Then she looked puzzled, and then she looked worried, glancing down at her arm.  
  
“Um, Amy? I can’t move my arms,” Victoria said in a worried tone of voice. “Or my legs.”  
  
“I know,” Amy purred, pushing Victoria down onto her bed. “I wouldn’t want you trying something inappropriate right now, would I? Nope, you’re going to stay right where I put you while I give you your reward.”  
  
Because not being able to move her arms and legs was a crippling problem to a girl that could use her mind to fly. But even _if_ Amy could fiddle with powers, there was no way on earth she was going to try, especially not with Victoria. Instead, she’d just use some bondage that was so much more effective then leather or steel could ever be.  
  
Amy crawled up on top of Victoria, grinning widely as she looked down at her adopted sister’s naked body. She could feel how turned on Victoria was, how the pain and the pleasure had mixed together inside of Victoria into something better then both. Nothing Amy had any desire to experience, but _so_ beautiful to see in others. Or one other, at least.  
  
“What are you going to do to me, Amy?” Victoria asked, her voice a _wonderful_ mixture of worry and arousal.  
  
“Could I do anything to you that you don’t want?” Amy asked, grinning widely as her hands sunk through Victoria’s forcefields. “Is there a single thing I could make you do that you wouldn’t agree to? If it meant that you got to cum?”  
  
Victoria flushed red and looked to one side. That was answer enough, for Amy. She grinned widely, baring her teeth as she started to run her hands up and down the sides of Victoria’s body. Victoria flinched as Amy’s hands ran over her welts.  
  
Victoria was more soaked then Amy had been. If she still had her ability to orgasm, then Amy thought her sister would be multi-orgasmic right now, cumming again and again, not stopping even long enough to catch her breath. That would be something to look into later, Amy thought. Her wonderful sister, cumming her brains out again and again.  
  
Amy didn’t think of herself as a cruel woman. The spankings and the whips and the ice cubes were just a way to help Victoria learn. No different then a red F on a test (not that Victoria had gotten that kind of grade in as long as Amy could remember).  
  
And if it worked for a government school, then it should work for Amy. So there wasn’t any real reason to put off Victoria’s orgasm. Beyond the fun in watching her sister thrash around on the bed, her limbs numb and unresponsive, completely unable to bring herself her own pleasure.  
  
So Amy let one hand wander down in between Victoria’s thighs, while the other went to her breasts. Both places felt absolutely wonderful. Still, Amy made sure her bare thigh was pressing against the leash, just in case her hands went above the layer of the forcefield. It would be unfair to Victoria if she wasn’t able to keep providing the stimulation.  
  
“What a wet slut,” Amy said, a wide smile on her face. “What turned you on more, Victoria? Eating me out or getting punished for being a bad girl? Remember, if you enjoy a punishment too much, then it’s not really a punishment!”  
  
Victoria blushed once again and looked to one side, avoiding Amy’s gaze. Amy chuckled. She knew exactly what turned Victoria on, and how best to make her sister associate pain with pleasure. Of course, she’d have to be careful not to do to good a job. Amy had no interest in herself getting hurt, not even if it led to more sexytimes with Victoria.  
  
Amy started playing with Victoria’s breast, her fingers digging into the soft, wonderful flesh. Victoria’s body was perfect beyond words, and it was a treat to get to play with it. Amy stared down at her sister, looking her in the eyes as Amy’s fingers ran over the raised, sensitive welt. Victoria hissed in pain, and she tightened down around the finger Amy had inside of her.  
  
“That’s right,” Amy said. “That’s what I thought. It’s a good thing I got rid of your ability to orgasm, Vicky. You’d just have drawn _all_ the wrong lessons from getting to cum from hurting me. Wouldn’t you?”  
  
“Yes,” Victoria admitted after a minute. “I’m,” she took a deep breath. “I’m just a silly little girl who needs you to tell me what to do and reward me when I’m good. So please let me cum, Amy!”  
  
Amy rolled her eyes. She didn’t think for a second that Victoria really believed what she was saying. Maybe a _bit_ , but overall? No way. Victoria was just saying what she thought she should say, so she would get the orgasm that only Amy could give.  
  
And, to be fair, Amy could sympathize with that. And she was still going to give Victoria that orgasm. One way, or another.  
  
“I’m so glad you realize that,” Amy said, her voice as dry as the desert. She added a second finger to Victoria’s pussy. “Now, why don’t you _sing_ for me, Victoria?”  
  
The sounds Victoria made weren’t something you could find in a record shop. But there wasn’t any other kind of music Amy would want to listen to. The way Victoria twisted around on the bed, writhing and pushing with her torso as her useless limbs rested on the bed was just as sweet to Amy’s eyes as Victoria’s sounds were to her ears.  
  
Amy grinned, straddling Victoria’s thigh as she pumped her fingers in and out of her sister’s pussy, and played with Victoria’s breasts. Victoria may not be able to move her legs, but she could still feel them. And Amy knew she could feel the pressure and the heat and the wetness of Amy’s body. Amy may have had the most wonderful orgasm she had ever gotten, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t horny anymore.  
  
Victoria had been teetering on the edge of an orgasm for a long, long time. It was only Amy’s control over her body that kept her from cumming. And even now, when Amy had started fucking her sister, she still hadn’t given Victoria the ability to cum back. No, Amy was planning to play with Victoria, using a bit of pain every now and then, until Victoria was filled to the brim with lust, completely ready to explode, before letting Victoria cum.  
  
That was just the kind of thoughtful action sisters should take with each other, in Amy’s opinion.  
  
It actually didn’t take all that long before Victoria was ready. The whipping, being made to eat Amy out, Amy’s tender words, they had all worked _magic_ on Victoria’s body. Now, Victoria’s eyes were clouded with lust, her pussy was gushing arousal, she was a complete mess, with only a single reason why she wasn’t cumming yet.  
  
And then, finally, Amy removed that final obstacle. It was as simple as flicking a switch. One minute, Victoria was about to start begging to be allowed to cum. The next, she _was_.  
  
The orgasm was too intense for Victoria to scream. Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head as her mouth fell open, her body levitating up off of the bed. Amy fell forward, sprawled over Victoria’s body as her sister floated several inches in the air.  
  
Victoria’s torso twisted, even as her limbs hung limp and useless. As amazing as it was to look at, Amy’s sense of Victoria’s body gave her even more information. She could _feel_ Victoria’s orgasm, racing up into her brain, and exploding like the Fourth of July. Amy was quite certain that, right now, Victoria couldn’t remember a thing about herself. There was only the pure, blissful, unending pleasure.  
  
Amy waited until Victoria got some control over herself. Slowly, Victoria sank back down to the bed, her shoulders heaving up and down as she fought for breath. Her eyes slowly refocused as she stared up at Amy, their faces only inches from each other. Amy wished she could kiss Victoria.  
  
But no, that wouldn’t be happening. For one, it would take too long for Amy to press her face against the forcefield to kiss Victoria. For another, despite what Amy wanted and hoped for, there wasn’t a trace of romance between her and Victoria. Yet, at least.  
  
Instead, Amy slid off of Victoria and stood by the side of the bed. She smiled down at her sister, as Victoria opened her eyes. Slowly, Victoria turned her head and smiled back.  
  
“Thank you, Amy,” Victoria whispered. “Thank you so much.”  
  
“It’s not a problem,” Amy said, picking up the leash and restoring Victoria’s ability to move her limbs. “Did you learn your lesson?”  
  
Victoria nodded, wincing as she pressed her hand against her stomach, right were two of the welts met.  
  
“Good,” Amy said, shrugging out of her shirt and climbing into her bed, right next to Victoria. “Then you won’t do something like that again?”  
  
“No, Amy,” Victoria said, wrapping her arms around Amy in a hug. “I’ll pay more attention to where other people are before I bust down a wall or fly through the ceiling.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Amy said, drawing a blanket up over the two of them. That done, she wrapped Victoria in a hug in return, holding her sister close against her. “I know you can be a great superhero, Victoria. You just need a bit of guidance.”  
  
Victoria nodded, her hand straying up to the collar wrapped around her neck. Amy smiled. It was a pity that her parents, especially Mom, paid such close attention to how Glory Girl looked before going out on every patrol. Vicky wearing a white collar as part of her uniform would be a really _good_ look to Amy’s mind.  
  
“How are you feeling, Victoria?” Amy asked, pulling her head back so she could look her sister in the eyes.  
  
“It hurts,” Victoria admitted, a wince of pain crossing over her features. “It isn’t as bad as it was, though.”  
  
“Well, I can fix that. A bit, at least. You _need_ to feel the pain for a while, to make sure the lesson sticks with you. Understand?” Amy asked, staring down at Victoria.  
  
After Victoria nodded, Amy nodded in turn, satisfied. But just because Victoria had to feel some pain for the next few days, that didn’t mean that she had to feel this much pain all the time.  
  
Reaching out, Amy grabbed a bottle of soothing cream that she had placed on her nightstand. There was an ulterior motive for this, of course. Yes, she would help Victoria feel better. But it would also mean she got to touch her sister’s body some more. And Victoria’s body _demanded_ attention. Especially with where some of the whip marks were.  
  
It meant Amy had to stop hugging Victoria, but that was just the price that had to be paid. Sliding out of Victoria’s grip, Amy sat up and smiled down at Victoria.  
  
“Turn over, Victoria. I know how to make you feel better.”  
  
Victoria did so without question or hesitation. She flipped over, hovering a few inches above the bed for a few minutes as she did so. Amy pulled back the blanket so she could get a better look at Victoria’s rear half.  
  
That ass was just as good as Amy remembered it, from the last time she had seen it. A whole five minutes ago. Amy smiled, looking down at the smooth, perfect curves of Victoria’s back, waist and ass. And at the red marks, showing where Victoria had received some help in becoming a better girl.  
  
Squirting the cream onto her fingers, Amy went to work. She slowly started rubbing the cream onto the welts, feeling her hand sink down and press against Victoria’s back. Victoria hissed, looking over her shoulder at Amy. Amy smiled back at her, and kept on working.  
  
The cream wasn’t thick enough to stop Amy from getting a read on Victoria’s biology. She could tell that her sister was appreciating the soothing effects of the cream. Appreciating it a bit too much, in fact. Victoria’s legs were slowly spreading, showing herself off. What a naughty girl.  
  
Still, Amy wasn’t in the business of teaching Victoria how to be a proper lady. She was just helping Victoria become a good superheroine. Victoria could pose or dress how she wanted (even if Amy had certain preferences there). Instead, Amy just kept on rubbing, moving from one lash mark to the next, making certain that the pain Victoria felt was lessened. Sure, Amy could use her powers to remove both the pain and the marks, in a single second. But where was the fun in that?  
  
It was so much better to feel the softness of the skin underneath her fingers. To feel the normal warmth of Victoria’s skin, and then the even greater heat from her welts. To feel her sister twitch around underneath her, and hear the soft sounds she made. It was just so wonderful.  
  
And arousing. Very arousing. Amy knew that once Victoria was bundled off to her room, and the laundry machine started going with her messy sheets, Amy was going to be taking some _me time_. It couldn’t possibly be as good as Vicky’s lips, but Amy would just have to deal with that.  
  
The welts on Victoria’s back had been taken care of, the whitish cream glistening. Amy moved on down to Victoria’s rear, which was, obviously, the _real_ prize. All of Victoria was great, of course, but this ass was certainly one of the better parts.  
  
Amy already hadn’t been hugely professional and detached while applying the cream to the marks on Victoria’s back. She was much less so when it came to Victoria’s ass. She really let her hands wander, moving all over Victoria’s rear, not even staying that near to the welts. Victoria didn’t comment.  
  
Not in words, at least. Amy could tell how much Victoria was enjoying this. She wasn’t getting turned on, exactly (that would probably happen when Amy got to her boobs and thighs), but it was like getting a shoulder massage or something. Fully enjoyable in its own right, and a good lead-in to more erotic activity.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Amy asked, pitching her voice low.  
  
“It feels better,” Victoria said, talking into the pillow. “It still hurts a bit, though.”  
  
“I know it does,” Amy said. “And it’s going to keep on hurting until the weekend or so. That way you don’t forget this.”  
  
“I won’t,” Victoria said, fervently. Amy believed her. This kind of lesson had a way of sticking in the mind.  
  
Amy returned to taking care of Vicky’s ass. Finally, she had done all she could do. Any more, and she would just be moving the cream around without really getting to play with Victoria’s ass.  
  
“Turn over,” Amy said, nudging Victoria’s side.  
  
Victoria did so, using her powers so that she didn’t smear the cream against the bedsheets. She smiled up at Amy when she was done, a nervous kind of smile. She still looked great doing it.  
  
“And just a few more to do,” Amy said, reapplying the cream to her fingers.  
  
“Okay,” Victoria softly whispered, sending a shiver down Amy’s spine and putting a smile on her face. “Thank you, Amy.”  
  
“Not a problem,” Amy said easily, smiling down at her sister. “I just want to help you be the very best you can be. You know that, right?”  
  
Victoria nodded, a gesture so confident in Amy’s trust that Amy felt her heart skip a beat. Man, what had she done to deserve someone like Victoria in her life? Even with those hasty moments, Victoria was still like an angel.  
  
Amy started working on the welts on Victoria’s stomach. She wanted to save her sister’s thighs and breasts for later. To work her way up to the real treats. Not that Victoria’s stomach was something just to ignore, of course.  
  
Even though Victoria’s forcefield was what gave her the super strength, she still worked out. She had some lovely muscles, and her abs were no exception. Amy let her fingers glide over them, gently tracing each one in turn before a pointed cough from Victoria made her return to the actual welts along Victoria’s stomach.  
  
Amy divided her gaze between the welts and Victoria’s eyes. She wanted to see what her sister was thinking and feeling as Amy slowly took the pain away. And what she saw was lovely.  
  
Victoria was staring up at Amy with a longing, loving, lustful expression. It was the kind of look that Amy had never seen before, and wouldn’t want to see on anybody else. Victoria was more than enough for her.  
  
Amy only realized she had been staring into Victoria’s eyes for too long when her sister hissed. Looking down, Amy realized that she had been stroking the welt for too long, making Victoria feel uncomfortable. Well, there was a _very_ easy solution to that.  
  
Amy lifted her hand and reapplied the cream to her fingers. Then she pressed down, first against the forcefield and then against Victoria’s skin. It was smooth and soft, even though Amy could feel the heat from the muscles below. Amy slowly ran her fingers back and forth along the welt on one leg.  
  
For the other, Amy let her fingers glide up along Victoria’s skin, running past her crotch, just inches above her still wet pussy. Then she slid down onto the other thigh, looking for the welt there. Victoria moaned and twisted around as Amy slowly massaged her thigh. It was just as nice as her other thigh.  
  
“And now for the breasts,” Amy whispered, half to herself. Victoria snorted, obviously understanding why Amy had put those off until then. “Just hold still, Victoria,” Amy said, gliding her fingers up Victoria’s torso to her chest.  
  
Victoria didn’t actually hold still. Instead, when Amy’s hand arrived at her chest, she pushed her chest up, pressing her breasts into Amy’s palm. She gave her sister one cheeky grin, a look that made Amy want to lean down and kiss her.  
  
Instead, Amy squared her shoulders and kept on taking care of Victoria’s breasts. They were so soft underneath her hand, letting her fingers sink down into them in a wonderful manner. Amy was sure that she could spend _hours_ playing with Victoria’s chest, doing nothing but feeling the soft, warm skin underneath her fingers and lips.  
  
Even this felt _really_ nice. Amy could keep groping, _helping_ her sister for a long time. But she would have to switch hands because the one she was using was getting pretty cramped up. Instead, Amy gave Victoria’s nipple one last pinch and let go.  
  
The squeal Victoria let out was music to Amy’s ears. That was the kind of sound she could stand to hear a whole lot more of. Putting the bottle of cream down, Amy wiped her hands. That done, she rejoined Victoria on the bed, wrapping herself around her sister as best as she could. Pulling a blanket over the two of them completed the picture.  
  
“I feel better now,” Victoria said, dreamily. “Thank you, Amy.”  
  
“Not a problem, sis,” Amy said, squeezing Victoria tight.  
  
Amy buried her head against Victoria’s neck. After a second or so of pressure, her face sank down through the forcefield, letting her rest against Victoria’s skin. It was a wonderful feeling, one Amy would never possibly get tired of. Hugs from Victoria were the best hugs imaginable, especially when Victoria was naked except for the collar, and Amy was naked except for her bra.  
  
Amy yawned, triggering a matching yawn from Victoria. That got them both giggling. Amy was feeling pretty tired. It wasn’t even evening yet, but it had still been a long day. She could do with a nap.  
  
Not that she should _take_ one, since there would be some questions asked if their parents found Amy and Victoria together like this. Showers for both of them, laundry, getting dressed, there was a lot of stuff that needed to be done. But even if Amy couldn’t nap, she could at least spend some time resting with Victoria.  
  
There was stuff Amy knew the two of them needed to do. But until then, the two of them could stay like this, wrapped up with each other. It was absolutely perfect.  
  
Amy loved Victoria.  


* * *

  
  
AN: Yes, I know this isn’t how Victoria’s forcefield works. But I hadn’t started reading Ward yet when I wrote Sisterly Discipline, and I’d rather have this as just one more AU element then doing a retcon.


	9. Maid to Serve Ch. 6

**Maid to Serve Ch. 6**

  
I was sitting primp and proper, every inch of me showing that I was paying close attention to the briefing. Even if someone removed my helmet, they wouldn’t have seen the slightest sign of anything but careful consideration. I was even taking notes, and thinking of questions to ask. I was a _dedicated listener_.

There was absolutely _zero_ reason for anything to think that Vista, the experienced superheroine, was attending a briefing with a butt plug inside of her. In fact, there was no reason for anybody but me to ever even know about it. Not even Skitter.

“And so, we expect that the main force of the NAB to arrive over the weekend. We’ll be stepping up patrols on the south side of town, trying to intercept them before they can go to ground. If we run into any of the Brotherhood’s capes, we will be calling you on to provide assistance.”

I nodded along with the rest of the Wards. It looked like it was going to be a busy few weeks coming up. A gang that had proved its chops enough in New York by not being _completely_ dismantled by Legend, moving on to easier pickings. The same old story, time and time again. Heck, it had happened to Brockton Bay a few times.

The briefing continued, the questions asked and answered, points clarified, plans made. The usual meetings that had to happen before any action could actually happen. The briefing slowly ran down, as I kept on squeezing around the toy inside of me. It was making me feel _good_. And I had enough experience with butt plugs that nobody would even ask you why I was walking funny.

Still, it was a ‘good’ (not really good at all, it still hurt after all these years) that Dean wasn’t around anymore. He could have asked some hard questions about why I was getting turned on during a threat briefing. No easy answers there!

“I have the utmost confidence in all of you,” Deputy Director Lennick said, staring at each of the masked and helmeted faces. “Especially you two, Vista, Toggle. Some more of that quick thinking, and the Klanners will bounce off of us like a rubber ball.”

I smiled, and saw Toggle fidgeting next to me in happiness. It was good to be complimented for doing a good job, even if it was from someone I didn’t actually trust. Well, at least he hadn’t killed me for poking into his secrets yet. Assuming he had secrets, or that he knew I was looking into them.

“Not a problem, sir,” I answered. “We’re always ready to do our part.”

In fact, I was doing _more_ than your part. That was why I was infiltrating Skitter’s operations. Obviously. What other reason would I have? I barely noticed how my tongue flicks out to lick my lips.

“We gave those goons a licking,” Toggle said, her smile abundantly obvious even behind her rigid faceplate. “And we’ll do the same to these guys!”

There was a lot of cheers and whoops at that. How much was because we were actually full of morale and thought this would be easy, versus acting confident because we were supposed to, I couldn’t say. Still, I joined in.

The briefing broke up soon after that. A good thing, too. Despite regulations about how much time minors could spend on the clock as superheroes, there still tended to be way too much time spent with my ass planted on a seat. Which was generally alright, because I normally didn’t have anything else to do with my time. But I had a shift with Skitter today, and I didn’t want to miss it.

“Vistaaaaa!”

Even though I knew it was coming (because it was Toggle), I still jumped a bit as I heard the rapidly approaching feet coming up behind me. I only half-managed to turn around when she slammed into me, her arms clattering against my breastplate as she wrapped me in a hug. Her helmet bounced against my visor.

“Hi, Toggle,” I gasped.

“Oh man, did you hear what Lenny said? He said we were doing a great job!” Toggle stopped hugging me long enough to make a fist and shake it in triumph. When she tried to resume the hug, I put my hands up to fend her off. “And it’s all thanks to you, V!”

I flushed a bit, looking over Toggle’s shoulder as the rest of the Wards filed out. I got some amused glances (or, for Clockblocker, amused body language) as they left me alone with her.

“You helped just as much,” I said, trying to calm her down. Toggle was a _really_ good name for her, for more reasons then just her powers. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh, please,” Toggle said, her eyes dancing behind her goggles, “I wouldn’t have even thought to go check that alley without you! It’s like you _knew_ that there was going to be something there.”

Well, yeah. I did. I wouldn’t have bothered otherwise. Not that I could tell Toggle that, even if she wasn’t in one of her up moods.

And, frankly, either one of us could have handled it. There had just been three guys in the safe house, none of them with powers.

Still, a quick fight was a hell of a lot better then a long fight. And it meant that apartment wasn’t trashed, possibly hiding anything in the wreckage. That was always a concern when Toggle had to use her powers too much. Luckily, she hadn’t, and the wad of documents we found sealed inside a paper bag had been stashed inside the toilet bowl. Easy peasy, and a very good affirmation that I was doing the right thing, spying on Skitter.

Not that I could tell Toggle that. Actually, I couldn’t tell Toggle much of anything at the moment. She was getting kind of overstimulated, feeling too good about both going a good job and getting complimented for doing a good job to listen to very much. And, since there wasn’t anyone else I could pawn her off on, I was going to be listening to her gush about how good everything was for a while.

Not too long, hopefully. I still had an appointment to keep.

Half an hour later, I was back as Missy Biron, just your average girl. Your average girl who still had a toy buried inside her ass, and that was shifting from side to side as I walked. And man, it felt nice.

Not that I took smaller steps or anything. In fact, I was walking ever quicker then was normal. I wanted to get back to Skitter, and see what she had to say.

Not about my buttplug, because I was sure she didn’t know about it. But about how mad she was that the daring, dashing and heroic duo of Vista and Toggle had raided her safehouse and gotten some of her thugs arrested. We really had done a good job, and I had been _so_ lucky finding that spot over the laundromat. So very lucky.

Once I got to Skitter’s base, I quickly changed out from my street clothes and into my maid costume. Away went Missy Biron, and out came Maid Missy, the feared supervillain’s dedicated servant. The other thing that came out was the butt plug, washed and put away. Skitter wouldn’t like it if I rewarded myself on the job with that.

When I felt good here, it was because Skitter wanted me to feel good. Maybe she would fill my ass up with a toy, making me clutch and groan and moan and _cum_. Or maybe she’d just turn on the vibrators I had just taped to my nipples. Whatever she did, it would be because _she_ wanted me to feel it, not because I was allowed to do it for myself.

I trotted upstairs, wondering if Skitter would be in today. She usually was, though, from a comment Charlotte had made, she was out a lot more often on the times when I wouldn’t be there. And that was something I had thought long and hard about, trying to figure out if she meant what I thought she meant.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” I called out, stepping on to the second floor. I didn’t have to look around to find Skitter.

She was right there in at her desk, typing away at her laptop and checking a phone. She turned her head towards me, as if she hadn’t known I was here from blocks away. She wasn’t wearing her mask, a pair of glasses perched on her face.

“Hello, Missy,” Skitter said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, ma’am. And you?” I asked, walking closer. Maybe I’d get lucky and get a glimpse of what she was working on. And maybe I’d be _really_ lucky, and it wouldn’t be a list of recipes.

“Tired,” she said, sighing heavily. “Really tired.”

 _Man_ , I could relate to that. Being a cape meant that there were long periods where sleep was never something you quite had enough of. Not something the two of us should bond over, though.

“With what, ma’am?” I asked, stopping a few feet away from her. Sadly, she shifted position a bit, blocking my view of the screen. An accident? Natural carefulness? Something more? I couldn’t say. “Is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Maybe,” Skitter said, smiling slightly and staring at me. “What do you know about Vista, Missy?”  
Oh well, she’s the most amazing and wonderful superheroine in the USA. She’s cute and pretty and I would make out with her if she asked. She certainly deserves a lot better then getting stuck in a town like this.

Those were all things I _didn’t_ say. I had an idea where this was going, though, related to the raid on the safe house.

“Um, she’s a superheroine,” I said, doing my best to look confused and struggling to remember. “She’s a couple years older then me, I think, and can make it take a long while to get anywhere.” I paused and tilted my head. “Why?”

“Oh, she’s becoming a minor pain,” Skitter said, leaning back in her chair. “I was thinking…” she stared at me, for an uncomfortably long time, before nodding. “Yeah, how would you like to dress up as her?”

 _Shit_. Vista and Skitter hadn’t met that often, and a photo wasn’t a good substitute. But it wouldn’t take a genius to look at even the pictures of me the Protectorate had on their website and then at _me_ in even a _bad_ replica of my costume to see the resemblance. Okay, try to get her off the subject, without _looking_ like I was trying to get her off. The subject, I added, cursing myself.

“I’m… not going to dress up as Vista and infiltrate the PRT for you, ma’am,” I said slowly.

“Ha!” Skitter laughed, laughing longer and harder then I could ever recall her doing. “Dress up and…? Wow, what kind of idiot would fall for something like that? No, no,” she said, holding up her hand and smiling widely, “I was just thinking of you dressing up as her for some,” her smile became a bit more lecherous, “private time, between you and me.”

I blushed, thinking of all the things Skitter could do to me. And how they wouldn’t hurt all that much.

“Really, ma’am? _Sky High_ told me that when the villains get foiled, they rant and rave in their darkened lairs, vowing revenge for next time. Not, uh…” I trailed off, blushing as a certain kind of image filled my mind.

“Not leering over their captured rival while slowly stripping them?” Skitter asked, quirking her eyebrows and smiling. “They might have gotten more viewers if they had done that.”

I giggled and nodded. Although, now that the idea had come to me, it was very slow leaving my mind. The idea of what Skitter could do to a captured Vista, making her, me, pay Skitter back for all the trouble I had caused, it was, um, well, no need to think about what exact emotion was making my belly feel like that.

“But seriously,” Skitter said, tapping her fingers on her desk, “I think I just might ask Parian to whip something up for you. Maybe do a fitting next Monday.” She frowned. “Assuming she’s makes it through.”

“Ma’am?” I asked, sounding puzzled, even though I had an idea what she was obliquely referring to.

“Okay, Missy,” Skitter said, taking a deep breath and running her hand over her face. “Things are going to get bad this weekend. The National Aryan Brotherhood is coming up from New York, and the capes will be coming in Friday night, Saturday morning. We’re going to be stomping on them, but things could still get nasty.”

Nothing I hadn’t heard at the Wards briefing.

“Missy,” Skitter said, sounding very serious and looking me in the eyes. “I don’t want you to come here during the weekend, okay? They may hit this place, and I want you at home with your family. Hell, if you can convince them to go up north or west for the weekend, do it. I don’t want to see hide or hair of you until Monday, at the _earliest_. Understand?”

I more then understood. I was _glad_ for it. I was going to spending Friday through Sunday with the Wards anyway, and now I didn’t need to worry about keeping up appearances with Skitter. Even if there was a chance we might meet, fighting off the Empire 88’s would-be replacements.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll stay home. And, good luck, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Skitter said, reaching out and patting my shoulder. “I shouldn’t need it, not with all us getting ready to smash some scum. But they have enough rabble that it might take a while to hunt them all down. Stay safe, try not to go outside.”

“Of course, ma’am,” I repeated, nodding. “Is there anything you’d like for me to do today?”

Skitter glanced at her laptop and then down at her phone. She closed both of them before standing up. She smile down at me, seeming far too tall all of a sudden.

“Actually, I think I’m due for a break. Eleven hours working is enough for anyone.”

I gulped. When Skitter thought it was time for a break, that meant I wasn’t just going to be using a feather duster and a vacuum cleaner. Today was obviously going to be one of _those_ days.

“Why don’t you… tidy up, while I go get ready,” Skitter said, waving vaguely at the couch behind me.

I turned to look at it, as Skitter walked off towards the stairs. The only thing I could see wrong with the couch was that the cushions weren’t symmetrical, and that there was a magazine left open. I fixed those, and then stared upwards, wondering what on earth Skitter was doing up there in her private rooms.

And also starting to feel a bit turned on. It was getting harder and harder to deny that I was just working as Skitter’s maid for the chance to get information on her operations. She made me feel _good_ , in ways I never would have thought to do to myself. Her fingers on me, I had to shivered at the thought.

Even the, well, shackles of it were weirdly enjoyable. The chastity belt, stopping me from ever touching myself, was strangely reassuring around my hips. I knew I looked _cute_ in the maid costume. The spankings felt _way_ better then I would ever admit to.

Of course, that was all creeping around the real question, wasn’t it? I sat down on the couch, staring at my lap. The maid outfit, the butt plugs, that was all fun. But who was I doing it _with_?

Skitter was not a very good person. Even if she could be nice to me, there was a long, long list of things she had done to other people. Alexandria, all of my teammates _and_ myself… So why did I always look forward to coming here?

Was it because Skitter cared about me? But she didn’t not really. She acted like she did, she may even _think_ she cared about me, but without knowing that I was Vista and that I was spying on her, how could she really be accurate in her feelings? And I knew she didn’t know about me being Vista. There was no way I would still be here if she did.

But it still felt nice to feel her hands on my body. Not even on my rear or anything, just touching my face felt really, really good. And when I looked at her when the mask was off, and I could see the light in her eyes… the thought that I was the only one who got to see that look really struck home for me.

I stood up as I heard Skitter coming back down the stairs. I’d have to think about that stuff later. For now, I had to be a good maid for my boss. Whatever that meant doing and being today.

Skitter appeared, carrying quite a bit of stuff in her arms. I gulped, even before I got a good look at it. Today was going to be unusual, even more weird then tending to a strap-on of whatever.

“I remembered how _cute_ you looked when I was showing you all those pictures,” Skitter said, a gleeful tone in her voice. “So I just had to buy some of the gear we saw in them.”

She set the stuff down on the couch. I stared down at it, feeling my jaw hit my chest as I looked. I, I, what was all of this? Actually, I could recognize most of it and guess at the rest, which didn’t do anything to reassure me.

Reaching down, I picked up the mask. I was _very_ familiar with masks in my line of work. But this wasn’t one that I had ever seen on another cape. It was tight, black latex, with only three holes in it. One at the base, to wrap around my neck. One at the back, for my hair to stick out of. And one right where my mouth would be. A way to see out of it didn’t seem to enter the equation.

“Ma’am?” I asked nervously, glancing between it and Skitter. “Is this for me?” As if I didn’t know the answer.

“No, Missy, it’s for my pet cat,” Skitter said in a calm, level voice. “Of course it’s for you. And it should fit on even over your maid costume. We just need to remove the headdress.”

Skitter’s fingers pressed against my hair for a second as she lifted the black and white band off of me. I blinked as I looked down at the rest of the gear. That was a lot more mundane, though the _implications_ of it were worrying.

“And the ropes, ma’am?”

“Well, I’ve been studying some manuals on it, and I’m certain I know how to safely truss you up. Won’t you look cute like that?” Skitter said, running her hand up and down my back.

“Um,” I eloquently responded. “Yeah.”

“Now, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice getting serious. “I don’t want to hurt you. Beyond, you know,” she mimed spanking me. I nodded. “If thing’s start hurting, in a _bad_ way, I want you to tell me, understand? Some word that makes it clear you aren’t just telling me not to throw you in the briar patch.”

A safe word. Right. You know, I had thought about getting one when getting measured by Parian, and that was the last time the whole idea occurred to me. Heck, what would I even choose? Beyond something easy to pronounce.

“Sanskrit,” I said after a moment’s thought. Seeing Skitter’s raised eyebrows, I flushed a bit. “It’s easy to say, and you’re not going to ask me for a language lesson, ma’am.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Skitter said, laughter weaving through her words. “I think you’re _quite_ the cunning linguist.”

I rolled my eyes and flushed a bit. Skitter laughed at my reaction before nodding.

“Sanskrit, then. I’ll untie you immediately if you say it.” She waved the mask in front of my face. “And now…”

I gulped, grabbing the mask. I took a deep breath, before glancing up at Skitter. There was a _hunger_ in her eyes as she looked down at me.

I pulled the mask on, closing my eyes as I did so. It was a _very_ tight fit, and I wondered how on earth people got those full-body latex suits on. I was also worried about ripping it as I slowly pulled down, feeling my head slide deeper and deeper into it.

I opened my eyes, and then rolled them. Yeah, without eyeholes, that was going to do a whole lot of good. I looked around, or at least turned my head from side to side.

“Skitter?” I asked, raising my hands and waving them around myself.

“Yes, Missy?”

Her voice was crystal clear. And electronically tinged. There were speakers built into the mask, I realized, right over my ears. And since I hadn’t heard Skitter’s voice (yeah, yeah, I knew what I meant), that would mean that…

“Just, uh, don’t leave me alone, ma’am,” I said, shivering slightly. Even though I could take the mask off at any time, it didn’t feel right to do so.

And more importantly, I only heard my voice _inside_ myself. Only through the vibrations in my body, instead of coming through my ears. I reached up, patting the sides of my head. Sure enough, there were thick, hard circles right above my ears.

“That’s right, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice soft and warm. “You’re only going to hear what I want you to hear.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. This was intense, more then anything I had expected. No sight, no sound, completely at the mercy of Skitter, who was _so_ famed for her gentleness. And since I couldn’t hear her breathing, she had to be turning on the microphone or whatever to speak. She could do _anything_ to me, and I wouldn’t have the least idea _what_ before it actually happened.

I whimpered, feeling a surge of arousal run through my body. Why? Why was this idea so hot? Yes, I’d already let Skitter do _so much_ to me, but this was signing over some very basic senses to her! Man, what was wrong with me that the idea appealed to me so much?

“Are you alright, Missy?” Skitter asked. I shivered a bit as she put a hand on my shoulder, the side of her finger pressing against my neck.

I hesitated a minute before nodding. I was okay. I could keep on doing this. I was a good maid for Skitter, and she wanted me to do this. There. That sounded a lot better. I was just doing through a _weird_ , _unpleasant_ experience to gain Skitter’s trust so that I could better find out her secrets. Nothing wrong with that.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” I said, softly. “What’s next?”

There was a pause, while Skitter kept her hand on my shoulder. I wondered why. Was she trying to see if I was telling the truth? I _was_. I wanted Skitter to keep going. This was freaky, but it wasn’t too much.

It didn’t feel great when Skitter took her hand away. But I forced myself to remain still, staring sightlessly ahead. I knew she wasn’t going to leave me along for long.

“Now, this rope is spider silk,” Skitter said. “It’s going to feel lovely on your skin.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “And it’s going to look even better.”

I stuck my hands out, pressing my wrists close together. I knew about this much, at least, from training. But at least silk was going to feel a whole lot nicer on my skin then steel.

“Good, I like a bit of initiative,” Skitter said, her voice coming crystal clear through the speakers. “But put them _behind_ your back.”

Blushing underneath the hood, I did so. I got a barely felt pat on top of my head as thanks. I could, just barely, feel the air moving around as Skitter stepped behind me.

Skitter looped the rope around my wrists. After a minute of her bare fingers brushing against my skin, she pulled away, and I tried to pull my wrists apart. I couldn’t do it. They were wrapped together, with maybe a quarter of an inch of give. I couldn’t even get my fingers to press against the cords.

But Skitter was right. They _did_ feel soft. Soft and smooth, sliding against my skin. I liked the feeling. But I also knew that Skitter had brought down a _lot_ more rope then what was around my wrists.

“Missy, you always look cute,” Skitter said, a hungry tone in her voice. “But now, you’re starting to look _beautiful_.”

I shivered, loving the tone of voice she used to describe me. I wondered what I looked like right now. Maybe Skitter would take some photos for me to see. Not that I wanted anyone else to look at them. Not even Skitter, not if I wasn’t in the room with her.

“And now, Missy, we’re going to move to another room. Understand?”

Move? Move _where_? About seventy-five percent of our time together was spent right here in this room. We weren’t going to go downstairs, were we? I didn’t want to be seen, looking like this. Not even by someone who was no more then an acquaintance, like Charlotte.

“Where are we going?” I asked, wincing at the quaver in my voice.

“Upstairs,” Skitter said, soothingly. She must have heard the worry in my voice, because she ran her fingers around the base of my neck, right around the bottom of the mask. “Now that there’s no way you can sneak a peek, I’m willing to bring you up there.”

 

Upstairs. Huh. So far as I knew, Skitter was the only person who ever went up there. I hadn’t, and I hadn’t even seen Charlotte or anyone else going up there either. She must _really_ like her privacy if the only way I was allowed up there was with a mask on and my hands tied behind my back.

“Okay, ma’am,” I said, suddenly feeling a bit more cheerful about the whole thing. “Lead the way.”

“Lead?” Skitter asked, sounding amused. “I was going to let you go up there all by yourself.”

I turned slightly to where I thought Skitter was and fixed her with my best glare. Even if she couldn’t see my face, I was sure she got the message.

She got it, alright. The speakers in the mask cut on, halfway through her laughter. She didn’t seem impressed by my glare at all. How rude of her.

“I’m over here, by the way, Missy,” Skitter said. She obviously _knew_ how useless that was as an instruction, since she laughed again. “Carefully, though.”

As if I needed to be told that. I could already tell how slow and steady I would need to walk. At least Skitter’s hands were on my shoulders, guiding me along. It felt nice to be guided by her, to have her warn me about each and every step. I was barely able to get up them, my legs were so tightly tied together. If only I could use my powers, this would be so much easier.

And then lead to something that was a whole lot harder to deal with.

It really was weird not to be able to hear _anything_ except the sound of my own breathing. And even that was more from the vibrations inside of me then through my ears. It reminded me of being caught in Grue’s darkness, which was hardly a pleasant thought.

Skitter must have felt me tensing up, because she squeezed down, pressing against the muscles in my shoulders with her hands. It felt nice, and I forced myself to calm down. I wasn’t fighting, I wasn’t in danger. I was just with Skitter, the supervillain I was spying on. I was perfectly safe.

Skitter guided me up the stairs, onto the floor I had never visited. There was no way to tell what it was like. Beyond stomping my foot and feeling either wood or tile underneath me. Wood, probably.

“And here we are,” Skitter said, her hands leaving me. But not for long, I bet.

And, sure enough, I felt a pair of hands nudging my feet together. I closed them tightly, wondering just how much of my body Skitter was going to tie up. I was certain she was going to truss me up until I couldn’t move. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and soon I wouldn’t be able to move. There was a tightening sensation inside me that I, shamefully, realized was arousal.

Skitter didn’t just stop with tying my feet together. Next, I felt her hands on my knees, the warmth of her skin sinking through my stockings. More rope tied my knees together, so that I couldn’t even bring my thighs apart.

And she kept on going. Her hands glided over my body, creating what felt like a web of silk rope over my torso, pressing down against my maid costume. I shivered, wondering what she was planning to do. And how I looked. The rope was dividing my body into geometrical sections, diamonds and triangles. And even with the lengths of rope running underneath my crotch, pressing against the chastity bely, or the ropes framing my breasts, the rope I was _most_ aware of was the one around my neck. It was a collar, resting just above my maid uniform and just below the latex hood.

And then I felt her tying my elbows together. Swiftly followed by the rope around my elbows getting attached to the rope around my body. And that was that. I was _trapped_ , tied up in enough rope that breathing was the entire extent of what I could do.

I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t move my legs. I couldn’t do anything but try and keep my balance, feeling Skitter moving around me.

I could feel myself getting turned on. Getting really, really turned on. I was completely and utterly helpless. There wasn’t a thing I could do. Whatever plans Skitter had for me, there was nothing stopping them from happening. I wouldn’t even _know_ about them until I felt the whip on my body or whatever she was going to do. Why did being so helpless feel so _right_?

“Oh, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice full of awe. “Oh, girl, you look _amazing_. You have no idea how hot you look right now.”

Skitter sounded aroused. Like she was almost as turned on as I was. And it was _because_ of me that she was sounding like this. That was a hot thought, I had to admit.

“All that black and white, with the red ropes breaking it up…” Skitter said again. “Oh, Missy, you look good enough to eat.”

I jumped, feeling her hands running down my back. Even if I looked good, I wished she was running her fingers along my bare skin. That always felt so much better.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, shivering. I was starting to feel, um, _really_ good, getting praised like this. But there were other ways for me to feel good. “Um, ma’am?” I asked, already feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

“Yes, Missy?” Skitter cooed, her voice sounding as sweet as syrup. I wondered where she was. Behind me? In front of me? “What’s on your mind.”

“I-“ I started to say, before cutting myself off, blushing _heavily_. God, oh God, what was I doing? “Should I really be up here?” My voice was strangled, fighting to get the words out.

“No, not normally,” Skitter said, sounding confused. “But since I brought you up here, it’s okay, Missy.”

“No!” I got out, squeaking. What was wrong with me, that I was fighting for this? “I’m breaking the rules by being up here, Skitter. Don’t you, don’t you…” I trailed off, my nerve finally giving out.

“Don’t I think you should be punished?” Skitter asked, sounding amused and delighted. “I _didn’t_ , but since you made such a convincing case for it…” She laughed, a low chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine.

A shiver of what? I couldn’t quite say.

“Yes, yes I think a naughty little maid with prying eyes who came up here _should_ be punished,” Skitter said, liking the idea more and more. “But what am I going to do with such a naughty girl?” Skitter’s hands landed on my sides, making me squeak. “It will have to be something that really teaches her a lesson, won’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, closing my eyes. My breathing was coming faster and faster as I tried to get control of myself. I was so wet, my arousal sneaking past my chastity belt and staining my panties. And the rope, too. Not that I could feel it. “Please make me a good girl.”

The words came out all in a rush. I had no idea how Skitter was going to punish me. A spanking at the very least. But there were so many other ideas that were coming to me. Almost all of them from that time I had sat on Skitter’s lap and she had shown off what one woman could to do another woman and make her feel good.

“One second, Missy,” Skitter. “I need to get some tools. Just stay right there, okay?”

As if I was going to do anything else. I didn’t hear Skitter leave, and I didn’t even know if she _had_ left. I kept standing in the middle (or the edge, maybe) of the room, trying to get myself under control.

What had I just done? Had I _really_ just asked to be punished, when it sounded as if Skitter hadn’t been planning to do anything of the sort? Yes, obviously. So then, why did it sound so good? I was _turned on_ , my nipples were poking out, my pussy was wet, and I was breathing hard, trying to deal with the knot of arousal inside my belly.

“And I’m back,” Skitter said. I could practically see the stuff in her arms. The paddle, the dildo, the strap-on, all sorts of stuff.

“Now, Missy,” Skitter said, stepping behind me. I could feel her body pressed against my back. “You’ve been a bad girl, and you’ve been a good girl, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, very, very quietly.

“You’ve been a good girl because you let me dress you up without a hint of complaint. The hood, the ropes, it all went on perfectly, didn’t it? And you look so good in them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, nodding.

“But you’ve also been a _bad_ girl, haven’t you?” Skitter asked, her arms sliding up and down the front of my body. I shivered, feeling her hands pressing down against the ropes and my clothes. “You came all the way up here, breaking the rules.” I could imagine Skitter shaking her head in disappointment. “That’s what a bad girl does, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied yet again, feeling more and more nervous, the tension mingling with the arousal.

“And now I have to punish you,” Skitter said musingly. “Punish you, and reward you.”

To the little extent that I _could_ , I had started rubbing my thighs together, thinking of what Skitter was going to do to me. And wondering if she was going to surprise me with something even more intense then I thought. Was she going to spank and fuck me, alternating blows on my rear with a pump of a strap-on? That sounded- good, really, really good.

“First, you’re going to take five steps forward, and then kneel down,” Skitter said, her voice soft, firm, and utterly irresistible.

I did so, taking five miniscule steps, hoping, trusting, that Skitter wasn’t going to let me crash into something. Then, carefully, slowly, and still almost losing my balance, I kneeled down. It was hard to say _how_ , exactly, but I thought there was something in front of me.

“And now you can rest your upper body on the bed, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice clear in my ears. “Oh, wait a second.”

I frowned, feeling her pressing against my head briefly. Then her hands withdrew and I didn’t feel anything different. What had just happened?

“You left your maid headdress downstairs,” Skitter said, obviously guessing at my confusion. “Wouldn’t want my maid to be out of her uniform.”

Right. That was the kind of thing that was important right now. I wondered how I looked, my blonde hair sticking out of the back of the black mask, and now with the white and black headdress sitting on top. Ridiculous, probably. Even if Skitter didn’t think so. Even if I felt kind of good, tied up like this.

I jumped a bit as Skitter’s hands descended on my body. She groped my chest, her fingers pressing down through the uniform, teasing my breasts and knocking against the vibrators taped to my nipples. The vibrators that had been silent for as long as I had been wearing them. I wondered when, if, they’d turn back on. Or if she was going to leave them off, and today would be an all-anal session.

I was getting good with my ass, I knew. The way Skitter could play with my butt, it was like nothing else I ever had done to me. Who would have thought that I could cum from my rear? And not just once, but again and again. Sure, I knew guys could do that (so a good half of the porn I looked at was about guys with guys? So what?), but I hadn’t ever really thought that a girl’s ass could feel so good. Not until Skitter had demonstrated it to me over and over again.

I could, just barely, feel Skitter’s body pressed against my back. If I pushed myself back a bit, I was certain that I could feel more. But, somehow, that just didn’t seem _right_ to do. I should just stay here, letting Skitter do whatever she thought was best to me. That seemed like a much better idea, yes.

Skitter’s hands ran up and down my body, and all along my limbs. It felt _nice_ , getting held like that. I thought it would feel even better if she held me in her lap, before flushing and trying to get rid of the thought.

I hissed through my teeth as Skitter pressed against my crotch. I could feel the chastity belt shift, just a little. Not nearly enough for me to feel anything more, but just the momentary sensation felt _good_. Almost as good as my ass would feel, wrapped around one of Skitter’s toys.

How long had it been since I touched my pussy when I was masturbating? _Just_ my pussy, I meant. On the increasingly rare occasions I masturbated at home (rare because I was so busy, no other reason, obviously), I tended to play with my ass a bit as well. My fingers didn’t feel as good as a dildo did, but, then again, neither did my pussy. Not compared to what Skitter could do to me.

And I was with Skitter often enough that I didn’t need to masturbate often. Skitter would take care of me when I came to work for her. She would take _such_ good care of me. Honestly, masturbation just couldn’t compare, even if I was allowed to touch my pussy when I was by myself.

And even as I thought that, Skitter’s hands glided around my waist, coming to my rear. I gasped and straightened up, wanting, _needing_ what she was about to do. Punishment, pleasure, pain, I wanted anything she was willing to give to me.

“I just can’t get over what a sweet little ass you have, Missy,” Skitter said, her voice seeming to bypass my ears and going straight to my brain. “I can grab it in both hands, and knead and squeeze it.”

She was doing just that. I muffled a moan, before realizing there was no reason to. So I moaned again, but louder. Skitter’s hands felt wonderful on my rear, even through the skirt of the uniform. Rough, but that was part of what _made_ them wonderful.

Then Skitter’s hands slipped underneath my skirt, and started playing with my bare skin. I moaned, pushing my hips back, pressing my rear against her hands. She was making me feel so good, and I wanted to feel more of it.

But after far too short of a time, she drew her hands back, leaving me alone. I moaned, pointlessly looking over my shoulder and not seeing anything but an all-consuming black.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Skitter said. I wondered if I had _really_ heard that faint note of regret in her voice. “Now lean forward. Again.”

Skitter planted a hand in the small of my back and grabbed my shoulder with her other hand. She gently pushed forward, and I went with her, having to trust her that she wouldn’t let me fall flat on my face.

I did, but only for a few inches. This had to be Skitter’s bed that my face and upper body were pressed against. I wondered if she had spider-themed bedsheets.

I shivered, feeling Skitter hiking my skirt up. As much as it could go, at least, since there was the rope running underneath me. Then I felt Skitter’s hands tugging my panties down. I wiggled my hips, showing off my bare (except for the chastity belt) ass.

“Now, there was one more toy I bought that I didn’t show you,” Skitter said in a tense, anticipatory voice. “I think you’re going to _like_ it.”

What now? Another dildo? Another butt plug? Something I hadn’t even heard of?

Then I felt something getting dragged across my rear. I yelped, softly, not quite expecting it. If Skitter laughed at it, I couldn’t hear her through the latex. What was it? I frowned, concentrating on my rear as Skitter ran it over my butt once more.

It seemed like it was many things, actually. I could feel individual strands separating and running along my rear. They felt kind of soft, or at least flexible. And Skitter was running it, or them, over me for the third time.

“Like it?” Skitter asked. “It’s a flogger. It’s supposed to feel so much better then just a bare hand when it comes to spanking naughty, disobedient maids who can’t follow the rules.”

Somehow, I doubted those exact words were advertised as a selling point on the packaging. But that was what only a small part of my mind was thinking. The rest of me was thinking about how a flogger would _feel_ on me. I knew a bit about them. I was certain Skitter was right, and this was going to be a lot more intense than just a spanking.

“And, because you were a good girl, you’ll get your reward at the same time as your punishment,” Skitter said, in a calm, level tone that still had a hint of excitement.

I gasped, feeling something pressing against my ass. I was _right_. Skitter was going to spank, well, flog, me while she was fucking me. Maybe I shouldn’t feel _quite_ so excited over guessing that, but I was.

“And remember, Missy,” Skitter said. “If it gets to be too much, just say so. Say so in the right way, understand?”

I nodded. I could still remember the safe word. I had no idea if I would need it or not.

I relaxed myself as much as I could, feeling the toy pressing against my lower hole. It was already heavily lubed up, and I cleaned myself out at least once a day. There was absolutely nothing stopping Skitter from entering me.

I groaned, feeling the dildo, the strap-on, _whatever_ it was, sliding into me. It felt big, but not any bigger then anything else I had taken. And it felt _good_. It was a struggle to keep myself relaxed enough not to clench up around it.

Skitter stopped well before I had to stop. I could tell that there was still more of the dildo sticking out of me. I opened my mouth to ask (just ask, not beg, I reassured myself) for more, when I realized that of course I wasn’t going to get more. Not just yet, at least.

What I did get was the flogger landing on my butt. I gasped, my head shooting up, away from the softness of the bed. That was _way_ more intense then Skitter’s hand! But even as I thought that, I also realized that the pleasure was just as strong as the pain.

“Oohhh,” I moaned, slowly letting my head sink back down to the bed.

“Did that hurt, Missy?” Skitter asked, her voice too sweet to be believable. “Did my naughty little maid not like that?”

I didn’t like it. And I did. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. And it was a hurt I knew I would be feeling a lot more of. Hopefully after Skitter pushed into me a bit deeper.

Skitter did exactly that, pushing the rod further into my ass. I moaned, twitching my hips from side to side. And then I felt something pressing against my thighs. It was _her_ thighs, I realized. Skitter was using the strap-on on me, just like she had when I had kissed her.

The thought of that sent a rush of blood to my cheeks. That had been… something. Yeah. Really something. And not something I should be thinking about right now, when I should be focusing on my punishment for being a bad maid, and my reward for being a good girl.

Skitter was in as far as she could go. And it seemed like she wasn’t _quite_ so far in as she had been the last time. A change in position, I guessed. She still felt _great_ inside of me. So far in, stretching me out so much, it felt completely wonderful.

The impact of the flogger on my ass didn’t feel quite as good. Or, at least, there was pain mixed in with the pleasure, instead of the undiluted pleasure of getting my ass fucked. I moaned, twisting around on the bed.

“If you keep on moving like that, it’s just going to take longer to finish,” Skitter said. Her tone said that she wanted me to keep moving around, regardless of what her words were. “See? I almost missed with that one.”

“Ga-ah!”

That impact was _sharp_. Every strand of the flogger seemed to hit with so much force then her hand ever did. It sent a red-hot feeling through me, mixing with the pink arousal that was already inside my lower belly. I gasped for breath, feeling the air rasping over my mouth.

And then Skitter started pulling out of me. My hands formed into fists, as I felt the thick dildo sliding out of my stretched rear. It was so _intense_. How could I handle feeling like this?

This time, Skitter didn’t stop inside of me before hitting me with the flogger. She kept on going, moving in and out, tanning my bottom with the toy. I groaned, feeling tears start to form in the corners of my eyes. The sensations were just too much.

My pussy was drooling, completely and utterly neglected as arousal ran out from me, soaking my clothes with the shameful lust of getting fucked and flogged and loving it. My nipples were stiff, rubbing against the vibrators taped to them. If only Skitter would turn them on, that would be pure, unalloyed pleasure.

Assuming I _wanted_ pure pleasure. The pain from the repeated impacts, it was starting to feel good. I could still feel the impact of the strands against my rear, but I _liked_ it. It was sick, but it felt so good, as Skitter spanked me again and again, and as she kept on sliding the toy in and out of me, making me moan and groan and feel wonderful agony.

I was drooling, staining Skitter’s sheets. But there was no way I could keep my mouth closed. I was feeling too good, there was so much stimulation, I couldn’t do anything but take and take and take it. And Skitter kept on giving it to me.

A small part of me wondered what Skitter was getting out of this. I couldn’t remember if the strap-on was double-ended or not. And if it wasn’t, was I going to eat her out? Would I be forced down, my ass still red and stinging, my head still wrapped in the hood, sightless and soundless, made to eat out the supervillain’s sopping wet pussy?

I made a small sound of pure need as the idea washed over me. It was _hot_ , way hotter then anything that twisted had any right to be. Maybe if Skitter didn’t come up with the idea herself, I could suggest it, as one further way to make up for my mistakes.

But right now-! My thoughts were completely and utterly scrambled as Skitter thrust all the way inside of me at the same moment she hit my rear with the flogger. For a moment, I simply couldn’t _think_. It wasn’t even an orgasm, just pure sensation. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t be anything but the girl, the maid, the _thing_ wrapped around Skitter’s strap-on.

It took a long while for me to recover from that, and Skitter didn’t help by continuing to whip and fuck me. I could feel my orgasm slowly growing inside of me, getting closer and closer. It was feeling so good, the pleasure and the pain mixing into something that was _so_ much better than just pleasure.

And then, finally, I got it. It wasn’t anything special from Skitter, just the right movement at the right moment. I came, hard. My pussy squeezed down around nothing, as I felt the wave of sensations rushing through me, roaring like a fire. I twitched on the bed, trying to pull myself off or impale myself deeper on Skitter’s cock. Either way, it felt _great_ , as Skitter’s dildo scraped against my inner walls, making me feel so, so good.

My legs felt like they needed to kick, to shake, to wrap themselves around something. But they were tied so tightly, in so many spots, that there wasn’t the slightest chance of that happening. All I could do was tremble, feeling what Skitter was doing to me. And it felt so good.

Another strike with the flogger landed on my ass. I had to be turning red by now. It might be difficult for me to sit down, but who cared? It was feeling so good, she was making me melt, whipping all the badness out of me and filling me up.

It was getting harder and harder to think, but who cared? It felt so good, I didn’t _need_ to think. I just needed to be here for Skitter, for her to work me over and make me feel good. And she was doing such a good job of it.

The pain wasn’t really pain anymore. I could still tell that I was getting hit, that Skitter was still hitting my ass. But it felt good, just like the dildo that was thrusting in and out of me, just like my nipples digging into my uniform. It was all just so good, I couldn’t hold onto it.

I moaned, trying to give voice to everything I was feeling. There was so much welling up inside of me, there was no way I could keep myself quiet. Even if I could barely hear myself moan, the sound mostly traveling through my body.

The hood really was working wonders. Cutting off my sight, cutting off my hearing, it forced me to pay attention to what I was feeling. And I was feeling such wonderful sorts of pain.

Skitter’s dildo was reaching so far inside of me. I could feel her shaft stretching me out, making me gape. And she kept on fucking me, drawing her hips back and slamming them into me, time and time again. There wasn’t a thing I could be but sit there and take it. Take the dildo, and take the flogger.

Because Skitter wasn’t being any gentler with the flogger then she was with the dildo. Again and again, her toy landed on my ass. I could even feel some strands from the device landing on my back, the blows completely cushioned by the thickness of my maid uniform. I wanted to moan, to cry, to beg for Skitter to stop fucking and to urge her to hurt me more.

How could this all feel so good? I knew how wrong it all was, and sometimes, when I was in bed, staring at the ceiling, I could even _feel_ how wrong it was. I was doing all of this, spying, hiding my activities from Skitter and from the Wards. And, of course, I was getting fucked by Skitter or punished by her, or both at once.

And then, when I was with her, everything felt so _right_. I _wanted_ to be Skitter’s maid, to do a good job and get rewarded, or to mess up and get punished. Having Skitter tell me what to do, as I submissively stared at the ground, nodding my head as she gave me a list of things anyone could do, much less Vista, the longest serving member of the Brockton Bay Wards.

It felt so good. It was _feeling_ so good. I moaned, my thoughts turning me on even more as Skitter thrust deep inside of me, and landed a blow on my rear with her flogger. My body twisted, caught up in the red ropes, unable to escape.

And Skitter wasn’t stopping. She was still slamming into me, going even faster. There wasn’t a thing I could do to stop her, as she forced her way into me again and again, making me melt. And I didn’t want her too.

In fact, I was starting not to want anything. It was all just blending together, my desires and my fears and my body and my mind, all whirling together as Skitter fucked and flogged me. It felt like I was coming apart, not able to do anything but get punished and rewarded by Skitter.

I came again, the pleasure so complete that I could barely even understand that there was anything but the pleasure. I could barely breathe, barely remember how to think. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, there was nothing for me but the flogger on my rear and the dildo inside my rear.

I felt like I was teetering right on the edge between two choices. I could let myself sink down and down, becoming the maid who got punished and rewarded, who served her mistress as best as she could. Or I could stay myself. I would still be Vista, and I could still enjoy this, but I wouldn’t know the true release that was being forced on me.

I blinked underneath the mask, my eyes slowly starting to widen. No, I couldn’t surrender myself like that. I was still a superheroine, still someone who had a life outside of being Skitter’s servant. Even if I was trapped- I was trapped!

It- it was all too much. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t _live_ like this. I had to get out!

I started trying to jerk away from Skitter, trying to tug myself forward to get off of the dildo. My fingers scrabbled together, trying to get at the cords tying my wrists together. My head thrashed from side to side, trying to find the slightest glimmer of light or sound.

“-ight? Missy, are you okay?” Skitter’s voice came suddenly, cutting in halfway through.

The sound of _anything_ was like a bucket of ice water to me. I was still needed out, but I could think enough to actually talk, to say something. My safeword!

“Sanskrit,” I gasped, my voice rough and panting. “Sanskrit!”

There was a pause for maybe half a second. Then Skitter pulled out of me, my ass reluctantly surrendering the dildo. I could already feel her hands on my neck, grabbing at the base of the mask. I urged her on, no longer wanting to be blind and deaf.

The latex mask came off of me slowly, far too slowly. I felt a momentary surge of panic again, that was only calmed by feeling the material of the mask shift and the pressure of Skitter’s fingers against more and more of my bare skin. My shoulders rose and fell, as I tried to breathe in and out, even though the hole in the mask was above my mouth by now.

And then, finally, it was off. I blinked, blinded all over again by the bright light stabbing into my eyes. But I could hear Skitter, hear her breathing at a higher pitch then I normally thought of her.

“Missy, are you alright?” Skitter asked, grabbing my shoulders. From the big dark and pale blur that appeared in front of me, it must be her. “Talk to me, girl.”

“I’m, I’m,” I said, trying to get my thoughts straight enough to talk. And for my teeth to stop clattering together so much that I couldn’t talk. “Sk-.”

“I’m here, Missy,” Skitter said, pulling me close. Landing against her body was a surprise, but it felt good on a bone deep level. Especially because she had changed out of her Skitter costume to something softer. “I’m right here.”

I was suddenly _freezing_. It was like my maid costume didn’t offer me a bit of warmth at all. And the heat that had been filling me had vanished completely. My entire body was shaking, my teeth grinding against each other, even as my eyes adjusted to the dim, warm lighting.

“I-I’m c-cold,” I managed to get out, my hands still rubbing against each other, caught in their bindings.

“Don’t worry, Missy,” Skitter said, sounding worried. “Just- here, here’s a blanket.”

My eyes were adjusting to the light well enough to see that I was on Skitter’s bed. And that she was pulling a quilt up from the end of the bed and draping it over me. It was thick, and felt pretty nice. Even if I was completely and utterly dependent on Skitter to adjust it over me, since I was still tied up.

“Missy,” Skitter said, kneeling down next to me. “Are you alright?”

I wasn’t sure. I was still feeling cold, and there was a light headache, pounding inside my skull. I couldn’t stop myself from shivering. And, of course, my ass was still hurting and feeling stretched.

It was weird, and kind of cute, to look up at Skitter when she was so worried. Her expression was drawn into a worried frown (and her face was very good in making frowns in general) as she looked down at me. She also looked kind of cute in a t-shirt and loose shorts. Less cute was the strap-on still jutting out from her hips, smeared with arousal.

“I, I,” I stammered, before swallowing and trying again. “Can you just hold me, Skitter?”

“Of course,” Skitter said, a look of relief washing over her face. She twitched the quilt to one side and crawled in, sliding the strap-on off of her as she did so. “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I dunno,” I said tiredly. “I’m just feeling… tired. Really tired all of a sudden. Like it was all just too much.”

Skitter stayed quiet for a moment, getting in deeper underneath the quilt. Her arms wrapped around me, tugging me into a hug. I wished my own hands were free so that I could hug her back. Hugs felt nice.

“I did bring a lot of new stuff in all at once,” Skitter said after a while. “It was too much for you, I guess.”

“M-maybe,” I said, fighting to get my jaw under control and not clattering so hard. “But, can you just- hold me? For a min- Ah, not there!”

Skitter’s hands had dipped down low enough to brush against my ass. My tender, sensitive ass, still stinging very badly from the flogger. She jerked her hands away, bringing one up to cradle the back of my head.

“Sorry,” Skitter murmured, a blush appearing on her cheeks.

I jerkily nodded, wishing the headache would die away. It wasn’t a very _bad_ headache, but it still hurt. And I didn’t _want_ to hurt, not when I was with Skitter.

Okay, I didn’t want to hurt _that way_. Being spanked or feeling ice cubes running down my back, that was a good kind of hurt. But just a headache? That wasn’t anything I wanted to feel.

“Could I get some aspirin?” I asked quietly. “My head…”

“Of course,” Skitter said. “There should be some…” she turned to the side slightly, her arm groping for something by the side of the bed. “Here, here’s some pills.”

She frowned, looking down at the instructions on the side of the bottle and then up at me. Then she shrugged slightly and popped a single pill out of the bottle. I reached out to take it, and didn’t manage jack, since my hands were still tied behind my back. Rolling my eyes, I opened my mouth.

Skitter popped the pill into my mouth and I knew I made a bunch of goofy expressions as I tried to swallow it. But, eventually, it went down. That done, I sighed and let my head fall back down onto the bed.

I knew I should be indulging my curiosity and seeing how Skitter lived in private. But I just didn’t have the energy. All I was up for right now was being held by Skitter, pressed close up against her body.

And it was a nice body. It was a thin t-shirt, and I could feel her body underneath it. The heat, the softness, the firmness. Well, there wasn’t much softness since she had such tiny breasts, but I could tell that she had abs underneath her t-shirt. Maybe not a full six-pack, but they were certainly there. It was nice to press my face up against them, and gave me something to focus on besides what was happening inside of me.

“Missy,” Skitter said, her breath ruffling against the top of my head, “I’m glad you used the safe word. I got so _worried_ , seeing you thrash around like that…” She shivered. “I wish things hadn’t happened to get you to that point, but I’m glad you kept a cool enough head to ask me to stop.”

“Yeah,” I said tiredly. I was finally starting to feel warm. “But it felt good, ma’am,” I added. “It felt really good for a while. Right up until it didn’t,” I finished, shrugging as much as I was allowed to. I didn’t really want to go in to too much detail about what I had been thinking and feeling. Not with Skitter. Not with anybody.

“I’m glad for that,” Skitter said. Her hands had started plucking at the dyed red ropes all over my body. “And to think, I had something entirely different in mind for you before you asked to be punished.”

“Really?” I asked, my curiosity finally roused. “What?”

“Oh, this and that,” Skitter said vaguely. “You’ll find out later. Next week, probably, since I doubt you’re up for anything today.”

I shook my head. No, I didn’t think I would be able to handle another session like that. Even if Skitter left something out, like the hood or the flogger. I’d just have to hope that we _did_ meet up next week. By Sunday, either one of us could be dead.

And man, that was a tough choice, to try and choose between the two of those. I had really liked both. The flogger had felt so much better then Skitter’s hand did, a sharper, more _intense_ sensation. A more intense pain, really, but pain _did_ feel kind of good.

And the hood was fun too. Just like the ropes I was still tied up in, ceding control over my body, it had a strange kind of thrill to it. Giving control over my senses to Skitter, it was somehow _freeing_ , even as I gave up agency. Like the chastity belt, really. It was one more thing I couldn’t control, so why worry about it.

And then there were the ropes. Just as restrictive as the mask, even more, I supposed, since it stopped me from walking quickly or using my hands or anything. Heck, if Skitter had tied my ankles together a bit more tightly, then I wouldn’t even have been able to walk.

I liked the feeling of all three of them. But they were all new, and all put together. It had just ended up being too much for me to handle. Which was sad, because I had been feeling really _good_ for a while there. Especially because, I blushed, Skitter’s strap-on had been feeling really good inside of me.

“I hope I can undo these knots,” Skitter said, in a musing voice. She was still playing with the ropes all over my body. “It would be a shame if I had to cut these ropes apart.”

I wondered if she even _could_ cut them apart. There had been a lot of reports over the years I had read about how tough it was to cut spider silk. And, given that my skin was right next to the cords, I didn’t want to find out just how sharp of a blade and how strongly it had to be used to get it to be cut.

“Could you just leave them on,” I asked. “I don’t mind the feeling.”

And I didn’t. I really didn’t, even if Skitter raised her eyebrows in surprise. They were the ropes Skitter had made, had even _dyed_ (blotchily, admittedly) and they were for me. And there was still all that stuff about how they held me down, kept me in place, unable to resist anything Skitter wanted to do to me. It was a nice feeling, especially as I recovered from the overload of sensation from her fucking me.

“If that’s what you want, then sure,” Skitter said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Actually, ma’am,” I said, blushing, realizing that I had been forgetting I was Skitter’s maid, and should be showing some respect, “there is one thing I want.”

“Sure,” Skitter said, leaning backwards so she could look down at my face. “What is it?”

“Could I get some cream or something for my rear?” I asked, twitching my hips as much as I could. “It’s really stinging, and kind of distracting.”

Yes, it was a good pain, but I also wanted to be able to focus on being with Skitter right now, instead of feeling the skirt of my uniform pressing against my tender rear. And, I flushed a bit, if my hands were still tied behind my back, there was no way that _I_ could be expected to apply it. Skitter’s hands always felt so good when they were on my body.

“Sure, I think there’s something like that in the first aid kit downstairs. I’ll go and grab it,” Skitter said, swinging herself out from underneath the quilt.

“You will?” I asked, feeling lonely all of a sudden. “Can’t you just send your bugs for it?”

“I’d rather not have a bunch of insects crawling all over medical supplies, no,” Skitter said, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, it will only take a minute or so.”

I nodded, rolling onto my back as Skitter got out of bed and left the room. I sighed heavily, wondering just what I was doing here. And what here was.

So, Skitter’s bedroom, and presumably one or two other rooms. I sat up as much as I could, looking around.

It was, well, a bedroom. That came as a big surprise to me, obviously. There was the bed, some dressers along one wall, and a bookshelf. That was obviously where the occasional book I found downstairs came from.

There was one door that had to lead to another room, and one that, since it was the kind with slats, had to be a closet. I wondered what was in the other room which also presumably connected to the stairs. A workroom, another living room, or maybe a diorama of the city with only spotlights for her to brood underneath. I really had no idea, and there wasn’t the slightest chance of me getting up to go take a peek. Even if I was untied, even if Skitter wasn’t watching me, that wasn’t going to happen. All I wanted to do was stay underneath the quilt right now.

I could hear Skitter coming back up the stairs and heading towards me. I let myself sink back in the inch or two of give the ropes gave me. I was starting to feel better, the headache receding as the aspirin took hold. My ass was still sore, but that just meant that maybe Skitter would have to spend more time tending to it. Hope could spring eternal!

The door opened a crack, and Skitter slipped through, shutting it behind her. We both smiled at each other. She was carrying a small, plain jar in one hand.

“Right where I left you,” Skitter said, taking far too much humor (i.e., any humor at all) from her joke.

Someone really needed to teach her what was and wasn’t funny. Imp, apparently, was good at making jokes, even if they were crass and crude. You’d think that after a few years, some of that would have rubbed off onto Skitter.

With a grunt of effort, I flipped myself over, landing on my front. I craned my head, looking over my shoulder at Skitter. She softly, calmly smiled back at me, before twitching the quilt aside and revealing me.

“Lift your hands up, Missy,” Skitter said, her own hands already grabbing at my skirt.

I lifted them up as much as I could, showing off my rear, unhidden by anything. I wondered how red I was. I’d taken a look, now and then, with a mirror after a spanking session. My ass ended up pretty red then, and I wondered how much worse it was now that Skitter had used a flogger on me.

But it was also hard to complain too much. It sure had felt good, especially with the dildo sliding in and out of me at the same time. And this was bound to feel good as well. Skitter had such wonderful hands.

“I’m proud of you, by the way,” Skitter said. She sounded so much calmer then she had when I had needed to stop. “You took so much new stuff, and it really looked like you were having fun.”

“I was-oh! I was, ma’am,” I said, gasping as Skitter pressed her fingers against my rear. “And, uh, thanks. I wouldn’t have tried any of this stuff if it wasn’t for you.”

“Ditto,” Skitter said. She sounded like she was smiling. “We’re both opening each other’s horizons, aren’t we?”

We really were. And, frankly, she was opening my eyes in more ways then just how to have sex. Putting aside her being, you know, _Skitter_ , she was also a _she_. I still wasn’t completely prepared to admit that I was falling in… lust, certainly, no reason to think about it more then that, just falling in lust with another girl.

The thought of Dean flashed through my mind. I sighed, and did my best to push his smiling face to the side. It wasn’t a betrayal of Dean to really like Sk-Taylor. It would be a betrayal of Gallant to like Skitter. But Dean and Taylor? We weren’t dating. We never _were_ going to date, honestly. And it had been years, anyways.

And, a lot more relevantly, Skitter’s fingers felt _amazing_ on my ass. I didn’t know if she was applying burn cream or what, but it felt great. She was slowly rubbing her fingers over every bit of my ass that she had spanked, which meant that she was caressing every inch of my butt. And she was being so _gentle_. I knew what Skitter’s grip could be like, if she wanted it to be. And this was so much softer and gentler then when she was molesting me.

It wasn’t turning me on. Not really. I was feeling too _tired_ to get aroused. But it still felt nice, like a massage. Which, I supposed, was exactly what it was. Although it wasn’t the kind of massage you could find in a massage parlor.

Strike that, this was Brockton Bay. Of course you could find that. The real challenge would be finding one that _didn’t_ offer a sensual massage as a prelude. It wasn’t the kind of massage that a massage parlor _advertised_. There, that was better.

There was the possibility that I was feeling light-headed. Would that kind of thought come to me normally? I couldn’t say.

So I did my best to stop thinking and started focusing on Skitter touching my rear. She really was a villain, to be groping a heroine so casually. Although even in my current state, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to share that tidbit of insight with her.

“How is this feeling, Missy?” Skitter asked, slowly rubbing the cream into my skin.

“It feels great, ma’am,” I said, my face half-pressed into the bedsheets. “Thank you.”

“Not at all. It seems I went a bit too hard on you, really. There’s swelling even down on your thighs,” Skitter said, tracing her fingers down along the curve of my rear to my thighs.

I hadn’t even felt that. My attention during the flogging had been entirely taken up with my rear. Both the flogger on my skin and the dildo inside my rear. And who could blame me?

Also, it really did seem that the aspirin was doing a very good job in numbing the pain, because Skitter pressing against the bruises or welts or whatever didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should. Of course, I was sure I’d be feeling it later tonight quite a bit more strongly. Well, it would give me something to remember Skitter by. As if I could easily forget.

Skitter’s hands were brushing right up against the chastity belt. I could feel it being slightly nudged from side to side, with as much give as it had. Not nearly enough to let me or anyone else touch my pussy, but still enough to give me a faint flicker of hope that it _could_ happen.

Skitter kept on touching me, _long_ after I knew she had rubbed the cream into every part of my ass and my thighs. Not that I was complaining. It felt _good_ for her to touch me. Honestly, I wished she would touch me somewhere else, too.

And why not ask her to? It wasn’t as if we were seriously pretending that the punishment was for my own good, to teach me a lesson or anything and that I didn’t get pleasure out of it.

“Skitter?” I asked, craning my neck to look at her. “Could,” I flushed, and barely stopped myself from clamming up. “Could you touch me more? Not just my rear?”

“Of course, Missy,” Skitter said, cleaning her hands off on a towel.

She adjusted herself so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off of it. Then she tugged me onto her lap, so that I was half-sprawled across her. My bound hands were pressing against the bottom of her t-shirt. It wouldn’t take much, I thought, to pull it up a bit and touch her bare skin. Maybe later.

I could look at Skitter’s face much more easily in this position. She had a content look on her face as she stared down at me. I wondered if she was turned on, and, if so, if I should offer to get her off. I _knew_ how much she liked… playing with me, after all.

“So, where should I touch my sweet little maid?” Skitter asked, her hands resting on my stomach, pressing down on my uniform.

“Anywhere you want,” I answered, feeling much too embarrassed to actually give details. And anywhere _would_ feel good.

Skitter’s hands slowly worked their way underneath my uniform and the rope bindings. I closed my eyes and shivered, feeling the warmth of her fingers pressing against me. I wondered if she was going to try anything sexual. And if I _wanted_ her to try anything sexy.

“You know, Missy,” Skitter said, “there’s an ancient, let’s say it’s Korean, art to stimulate the growth of breasts. Want me to try it out on you?”

Wow, that didn’t take long. And her lie was so transparent I didn’t even bother to comment on it. I just nodded.

Skitter removed her hands and then slid them back down the top of my uniform. I could feel her long, clever fingers poking at me, removing the vibrators taped to my nipples. The little plastic eggs fell down my blouse, where they’d be a pain to get out later. Oh well, that was a problem for later.

Right now, I could feel Skitter’s hands easily covering my breasts. So easily covering them, in fact, that I fit in about half of her palms. Not the best feeling in the world, at least until she started working. Then it turned into a very good feeling indeed.

“Mmmh,” I muttered, feeling my nipples slowly stiffen underneath Skitter’s continuous, gentle massaging. I was going to have to stop her from doing more to turn me on, but this, right now, was more than alright.

“I’m glad you like it,” Skitter said. She gave me a wide smile, showing plenty of teeth as she looked down at me. “Just keep on laying there.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, wiggling a bit against the ropes.

“Of course you do,” Skitter said, still in the same soft tone. “Just say the word, and I’ll get you out from there. Do you want that?”

I quickly shook my head. It was feeling much too good, staying here in Skitter’s lap for me to want to leave. The warmth of her body pressing against me, her hands on my breasts, the control she had over me… No, staying right here was perfect.

Especially because it meant that my ass was both mostly uncovered and sticking out on the air, with nothing pressing against it. I was going to have to cover up eventually, but eventually wasn’t now. I could let Skitter keep on taking care of me. Which was more then enough to make anyone feel good.

Not that I wanted to share Skitter with anyone. She could have Sierra and Charlotte and Tattletale and all the Undersiders (most of them women, come to think of it), but _I_ and only I, should be Skitter’s maid. Because that way I could find out more information, I told myself. Like today, I had discovered, I had discovered…

I had found out that Skitter was making enough spider silk to waste on making ropes for kinky sex games. Yeah, that was important to know about. And I might even find a way to tell someone about it without mentioning how I knew they were for kinky sex games.

I relaxed a bit, feeling assured that my mission here was a complete and utter success. Now all I had to do was _endure_ the supervillain groping me until it was time to leave. What a horrible, horrible trial for me to undergo.

I gasped as Skitter lightly pinched my nipples. It wasn’t very hard, but it was just enough to feel really good. I looked up at her, my eyes resting on her body. She looked, not quite beautiful, but in her element. The graceful curve of her neck, the look of pleasurable concentration on her face, everything about her said how much she was enjoying playing with my body, helping me cool down from the inferno she had built up inside of me.

Although the way she was cooling me down was heating me up. I felt a small flicker of arousal stir to life inside of my lower belly. It was something that was easy to ignore. For now, at least. If she kept on playing with me? Well, I had to say that it was something I thought she could do, get me turned on, bucking my hips in need, and then sending me off to clean.

Wouldn’t that just be _awful_? Forced to clean and cook and wait on her, feeling the arousal inside of me, and not a thing I could do about it, not with that chastity belt sitting on my hips. And she’d enjoy it, looking at my face.

“What are you thinking about, Missy?” Skitter asked, her face slightly amused as she stared down at me.

“Nothing,” I squeaked, turning red. “Just, uh, I think you’ve done as much for my breasts as you can. Ma’am.”

“Mm, I suppose so,” Skitter said, drawing her hands away from my chest. I sighed in- relief, possibly. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, my rear still hurts, ma’am,” I said, wiggling it a bit. “But it’s a _good_ kind of hurt, you know? It makes me think of you.”

The way Skitter blushed was so cute I completely lost my train of thought. How could someone so intimidating look so _amazing_ like that? I stared upwards, my jaw opening and closing as I tried to remember something, anything else.

“What time is it?” I asked, casting around for something else to focus on.

“Uh,” Skitter craned her head to look at some clock I couldn’t see. “Too damn late. I _really_ need to get back to work. And I suppose you should be getting home. And _staying_ home over the weekend, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, feeling a bit sad inside. I would have loved to spend more time with Skitter, but I had stuff of my own to do as well. “And, good luck with everything.”

“You’d better wish me luck getting these knots undone,” Skitter said, laughing a bit.

I could feel her fingers picking at my wrists. Just how complex of knots had she made, anyway? Well, I couldn’t look over my shoulder to see, so I would just have to trust in her to figure something out.

“Got it!” Skitter sounded far too happy over managing to undo what she herself had done. The ropes came spilling from my wrists, landing on my back. “And now for the elbows…”

I used what little mobility I had gotten back to tug at the ropes still loosely laced around my wrists. The ropes around my elbows seemed to go a lot faster, and soon I had the use of my arms back.

I brought my arms forward, wincing at the aches and pains and the tingling sensation spreading through them. Weren’t there risks to spending too long tied up? I vaguely remembered some PRT class about bindings cutting off circulation. Well, I could still move my fingers and feel stuff through them, so it obviously hadn’t happened. In fact, I was feeling too much as the blood rushed back through my hands.

“I can get the rest, ma’am,” I said, as Skitter pushed me over (she didn’t need to add the grunt of effort, in my opinion.)

“You sure?” Skitter asked, sounding unsure. “Here, I’ll at least get down around your ankles.”

With the two of us working together, I was quickly freed from the rope. It felt kind of good to be able to move my body again, lifting my arms above my head and spreading my legs. Not that I was opposed to doing something with the ropes again, though.

“Here, I’ll walk you downstairs,” Skitter said, offering her arms.

I gladly took it. I _was_ still feeling a touch unsteady. And getting to press my body closely against Skitter’s was hardly a bad thing.

She helped down to the second floor, the room that I thought of as the ‘main’ room. To my surprise, the bag I had put my street clothes into was there, sitting on the floor. She must have grabbed it when she went for the cream.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said. “Um, I’ll need the key,” I added, tapping the top of the chastity belt still wrapped around my waist.

“Are you sure you need it?” Skitter asked, smiling slightly as she dug into a pocket. “I could easily see you spending a day locked up. And,” her eyes brightened as a thought came to her, “I could tie you up as well. You’d get to feel that soft rope rubbing against your bare skin for hours and hours. Nobody would know but the two of us. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I paused, half-in and half out of my maid costume. That… that did sound interesting, at least. A secret for just the two of us, as I went to school. It would have to be on a non-Ward day, but otherwise…

“Maybe later,” I said, my face turning red as I thought about it. “I don’t, I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

“You’re probably right,” Skitter said easily, taking the small metal key out.

She unlocked the belt, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Then she stepped back, looking at my naked body. I blushed, staring at her feet. I wasn’t the most developed girl, and every week that went by made me lose hope of ever getting _tall_ let alone boobs or hips. But Skitter still wanted me. (And, hopefully, not _because_ I didn’t have breasts or hips.)

“I really should get home, ma’am,” I said, opening up the bag and taking my clothes out of it. And what do you know? My panties were still in there and hadn’t pulled a disappearing act.

So, for that matter, was the case I had slipped the butt plug in. I left the case right where it was. There was no way I was going to slide that toy inside of me, not with Skitter right _there_. That would be way too embarrassing. I also noticed that there were still indentations on my wrists from the rope. I hoped nobody would ask about those.

“I hope you stay safe on your way back home,” Skitter said. “And during the weekend.”

She was really worried about that, wasn’t she? That was nice of her. I _wouldn’t_ be staying safe, obviously, but at least I could let her think I would be.

“Of course, ma’am,” I said, struggling into my clothes. “And I hope you do as well.”

I laced up my shoes and looked up at Skitter. She was looking down at me, the light glinting off of her glasses. She looked good like that. Puberty had barely been kinder to her then to me, but there was still something about the way that she held herself…

Almost before I knew what I was doing, and long before I could talk myself out of it, I took a quick step forward and leaned up. It was a bit of a struggle, but I just managed to plant a kiss on Skitter’s lips. It didn’t last long, maybe a second at most. But it was still a kiss.

Skitter made a startled noise, and I could half see, half feel her arms coming up to hug me before stopping. I had my own eyes closed, so there was no way to see the expression on her face. And I wasn’t sure I _wanted_ to.

And after that, I pulled my head back, turned around, and left the room at a speed that was just short of a run. My face felt redder then my butt. I had just kissed Skitter. I had just kissed Skitter _again_. And it still felt good.

As I went down the stairs, I kept my ears peeled for Skitter’s voice. Calling me back or telling me to stop or to do _something_ , I had no idea what. And I had no idea what I would do if she ordered me to do something. I wasn’t exactly in the habit of telling her no, after all.

But she didn’t. I didn’t hear a sound from her as I left her lair, stepping out into the cold air and the setting sun. My face still burning, and my legs still kind of unsteady, I headed for home.

And as I went, I knew I had _plenty_ to think about. Like if we were going to be meeting up over the weekend regardless of what Skitter thought. And if we did, I was going to have to keep a close watch over what I said. Saying _anything_ would be risky enough. But I _certainly_ didn’t want to accidently call her ‘ma’am’ while staring at that black and grey costume I had gotten so used to.

That would be… _embarrassing_.

 


	10. Maid to Serve Ch. 6.5

**Maid to Serve Ch. 6.5**

  
“Sanskrit. Sanskrit!”  
  
I stopped, my eyes widening behind my glasses. Yes, I had heard that right. And that meant-  
  
As quickly as I could, I drew my hips backward, pulling out of Missy. There was a lewd sucking noise as the dildo slid out of her rear, but that really wasn’t what I was focusing on right now. After a quick glance at the shaft to see if there was any blood, I looked at Missy.  
  
She was starting to shake, her entire body quivering as much as it could while trapped by the ropes I had tied her up with. Even with her head facing away from me, I could hear harsh, panting gasps. Fuck, fuck, fuck a duck. I needed to look into her eyes, see if she was alright.  
  
The bottom of her mask was right at the base of her neck. I grabbed it, sliding my fingers underneath it. It was an awful sight, to see Missy shaking like this.  
  
I slowly slid the latex mask up, wishing it didn’t cling so tightly to Missy’s skin all of a sudden. Even though not five minutes ago, I had been loving how it looked on her. But now Missy was upset or in pain or _something_ , and I needed to look into her beautiful eyes and see that everything was alright.  
  
Finally, I got it off, sliding it along Missy’s hair and revealing her face. She was blinking rapidly, and her pupils were dilated. I hoped that was just from not being able to see, and nothing more severe.  
  
“Missy, are you alright?” I asked, grabbing her shoulders and bringing my face close to hers. “Talk to me, girl.”  
  
“I’m, I’m, I’m,” Missy stammered, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Sk-“  
  
“I’m here, Missy,” I said, wrapping her in a tight hug, pressing her bound form against me. “I’m right here.”  
  
“I-I’m c-cold,” Missy stammered. Her entire body had started to shake, as much as it could when she was tied up like this. Her teeth were chattering so much I almost couldn’t understand her.  
  
I looked around my bedroom. There, on the foot of the bed, a thick quilt I used whenever it got cold at night. I grabbed it and dragged it up, covering Missy in it.  
  
“Don’t worry, Missy,” I said, my voice trembling a bit. “Just- here, here’s a blanket.”  
“Missy,” I said, kneeling down next to her on the bed. “Are you alright?”  
  
Missy hesitated, which only made my worrying increase. What had _happened_? Everything seemed to be going so well. I was about ninety percent sure that Missy had cum while I was fucking and flogging her, and I had been wondering when it would be time for her to tend to my own desires. And then, out of the blue, all of _this_. It left a sick feeling in my stomach.  
  
“I, I,” Missy stammered, swallowing heavily. “Can you just hold me, Skitter?”  
  
“Of course,” I said, so quickly I barely even thought about it. Not that it would have changed my answer if I had a few minutes to reflect on it.  
  
I sighed in relief. If she wasn’t asking for an ambulance, then it couldn’t be as bad as I had started to fear. I nodded and sat down on the bed, pulling the strap-on and harness down my legs as I did so. Then I lifted the quilt up and crawled underneath it, my arms seeking out Missy’s body.  
  
Missy was still twitching slightly, and her face was pale and drawn. It wasn’t nice to see her like this, and I wished I knew what went wrong, how I could _fix_ this.  
  
“What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, getting as close to Missy as I could.  
  
“I dunno,” Missy said, sounding wiped out. “I’m just feeling… tired. Really tired all of a sudden. Like it was all just too much.”  
  
Yeah, I could see that happening. I had brought in a _lot_ of new stuff, all at once. Too much stuff, obviously. Maybe just the ropes or just the mask or just the flogger. But all at once? God, that was such a shitty thing to do.  
  
I hugged her tightly, knowing I deserved to feel this guilty over making my… maid feel so bad. I should have been using my head to think, instead of just wondering if Missy would _really_ cute or _very_ cute in everything I was planning to dress her in. And now here she was, obviously feeling like crap.  
  
“I did bring a lot of new stuff in all at once,” I said after I trusted my own voice. “It was too much for you, I guess.”  
  
Yeah, smooth, Taylor, laying the blame on Missy. Get your act together. Missy needs to be comforted right now.  
  
“M-maybe,” Missy said, her teeth still clattering together. “But, can you just- hold me? For a min- Ah, not there!”  
  
My hands had (quite naturally, I thought) slid down to Missy’s small, tight ass. Her small, tight, recently fucked and whipped ass. Gee, I wonder why she didn’t want me to touch her there?  
  
“Sorry,” I said, wincing. I didn’t want to hurt Missy. Well, I did, kind of. But it had to be the right _kind_ of pain, for as little sense as that made.  
  
I ran my hands up Missy’s back, resting one against the small of her back and the other cradling her head. I just couldn’t get over how small and fragile looking Missy was. Especially when she was tied up like this. On one hand, I wanted to hold and protect and cherish her. On the other, I wanted to do such awful things to her, to make her cry and squirm and beg. And for her to cum from it all.  
  
“Could I get some aspirin?” Missy asked so softly I barely heard her, wrapped in my own thoughts. “My head…”  
  
“Of course,” I said. “There should be some…” I lifted myself, groping around on the nightstand for the bottle I kept there. “Here, here’s some pills.”  
  
I glanced down at the bottle, then up at Missy. What _was_ the recommended dosage for someone who looked so much younger then she actually was? Well, one pill couldn’t hurt, since I took two whenever I got bruised up from a fight. I thumbed one out.  
  
Missy tried to reach out and take it, or so I guessed, from how her arms twitched, followed by a cute little frown. It was almost (but not quite) enough to make me smile. I held the pill between two fingers and stuck my hand out, right in front of her face.  
  
There was the lightest of pressure on my fingertips before Missy drew her head back. She looked really, _really_ silly as she tried to swallow the pill. It went down, eventually, even without the glass of water I normally needed to swallow it.  
  
After that, I drew Missy back into my embrace. It felt so nice to hug her, to feel her body wrapped up in my arms. She was so small and delicate, and it felt so nice to hold her. But there was still some stuff we needed to talk about.  
  
“Missy,” I said, so close to her that I could see my breath making her blonde hair wave, “I’m glad you used the safe word. I got so _worried_ , seeing you thrash around like that…” I shivered. I should have realized that things were going wrong even before she said the safe word. “I wish things hadn’t happened to get you to that point, but I’m glad you kept a cool enough head to ask me to stop.”  
  
“Yeah,” Missy said tiredly. “But it felt good, ma’am,” she added, taking a bit of the weight off of my shoulders. “It felt really good for a while. Right up until it didn’t.”  
  
It seemed that she had something more she wanted to say, but couldn’t or wouldn’t. I didn’t press. Not now, not over this.  
  
“I’m glad for that,” I said. I started to play with the red silk ropes I had run all over her body. “And to think, I had something entirely different in mind for you before you asked to be punished.”  
  
“Really?” Missy asked, sounding curious. That had to be a good sign, feeling interested in something outside of herself. “What?”  
  
“Oh, this and that,” I said, not wanting to tip my hand. “You’ll find out later. Next week, probably, since I doubt you’re up for anything today.”  
  
Missy shook her head, her face rubbing against my chest. Ah, if only I had big enough boobs for that to actually mean anything. But it still felt nice, and for a whole lot more then just the warmth in my arms.  
  
“I hope I can undo these knots,” I said, musingly. I pulled at the ropes I had made, feeling the tiny amount of slack in them. “It would be a shame if I had to cut these ropes apart.”  
  
Sure, I had made them, and I could make more of them. But it was still a major inconvenience to _dye_ them, since I had to be on hand to do it, instead of letting the bugs handle it. And there was always more of a demand for spider silk then I could meet. And not just from the Undersiders.  
  
“Could you just leave them on?” Missy asked. “I don’t mind the feeling.”  
  
I felt my eyebrows crawl up my head as I looked down at Missy. Her face was turned away, so I couldn’t see her expression. Well, well, well. What an interesting girl Missy was. I wondered if there was _anyone_ else she had shown this face to.  
  
“If that’s what you want, then sure,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.  
  
“Actually, ma’am,” Missy said, embarrassment filling her voice (and _man_ , ma’am was such a wonderful thing to hear from her), “there is one thing I want.”  
  
“Sure,” I said, leaning backwards and tilting her face up so I could look at it. “What is it?”  
  
“Could I get some cream or something for my rear?” Missy asked, her face red. The way she wiggled her hips, well, it was quite enticing. “It’s really stinging, and kind of distracting.”  
  
“Sure, I think there’s something like that in the first aid kit downstairs. I’ll go and grab it,” I answered, letting go of Missy and getting out of bed.  
  
“You will?” Missy asked, her voice suddenly sounding empty and hollow. “Can’t you just send your bugs for it?”  
  
“I’d rather not have a bunch of insects crawling all over medical supplies, no,” I replied, raising my eyebrows. Ew, ew, ew. “Don’t worry, it will only take a minute or so.”  
  
I glanced backwards at Missy just before I left my bedroom. It felt kind of strange to have her in here. Stranger then it had been when I had led a blind and deaf Missy up. This _really_ wasn’t a room I showed off to people. Lisa and Rachel and that was about it. And not even they came up here often.  
  
I went down the stairs, thinking to myself. At this time of day, the building was almost empty, and I didn’t meet anyone as I rifled through the medical cabinet. Just as well, too, since I wasn’t dressed in the way Skitter should be.  
  
Supplies in hand, I started back up. The few bugs I had on Missy showed that she was staying in my bed, barely moving. Good. I _really_ didn’t want her poking around my stuff. Downstairs, in _Skitter’s_ territory was fine, but not where I liked to relax and sleep.  
  
“Right where I left you,” I said, stepping back into my bedroom.  
  
Sure enough, Missy was still there, in her black and white uniform, with her blonde hair spilling over the edge, and the blotchy red ropes all over her body. I felt the stirring of arousal inside of me as I looked at her. How was I so lucky to have someone so cute, all to myself? Well, not _all_ to myself. I knew she had other loyalties. But still, being with her was really something special.  
  
Even as I watched, Missy forced herself over. I could see the strain on her face as she used her almost immobile limbs to flip herself onto her front. That was a nice display of initiative.  
  
I reached down and pulled the quilt off of her. I paused for a moment, looking down at Missy, even as she looked over her shoulder at me. What a cute, cute sight.  
  
“Lift your hands up, Missy,” I said, grabbing at her maid skirt as I pulled it up.  
  
With her hands and her clothes out of the way, I could really see what I had done to Missy’s bottom. And man, I had done a _lot_. Her skin was very, very red, worse then it had ever been before. It was no surprise that she needed an aspirin and some soothing cream.  
  
And as abused as her tight little rear was, I really liked looking at it. _I_ had done that. I had flogged her with the toy again and again, making her squirm and squeal as I filled her rear with the dildo. I was the reason she looked like this. And it was such a nice thought.  
  
“I’m proud of you, by the way,” I said, closing my eyes and breathing in and out as I calmed myself down. “You took so much new stuff, and it really looked like you were having fun.”  
  
My fingers glided over her rear, smearing the numbing gel into her skin. Her rear was starting to glisten, shiny in the light from the lamp to one side of the bed.  
  
“I was-oh! I was, ma’am,” Missy gasped, sending a shiver down my spine as I touched my fingertips against her rear. “And, uh, thanks. I wouldn’t have tried any of this stuff if it wasn’t for you.”  
  
“Ditto,” I said. I smiled and shook my head. What a world, what a world we lived in. “We’re both opening each other’s horizons, aren’t we?”  
  
Missy was silent for a while as I kept on tending to her rear. She was going to be feeling this for the next few days. The thought stirred a funny feeling to life inside of me. Every time Missy sat down, or felt her clothes brushing past her, she was going to remember what I had done to her. And how much she had liked it happening to her. The thought was _really_ nice.  
  
“How is this feeling, Missy?” I asked, as I slowly rubbed the light green cream into her tender skin.  
  
“It feels great, ma’am,” Missy replied, looking up at me with one eye. “Thank you.”  
  
“Not at all. It seems I went a bit too hard on you, really. There’s swelling even down on your thighs,” I said, running my fingers down to them. Some of the strands on the flogger must have hit her.  
  
I had to work around her chastity belt. My fingers would come right up to the edge of it, pressing against the hard metal that the world saw, and the padding that Missy felt. There was some kind of metaphor there about me, but not one I was interested in exploring right now. Not when I had such a wonderful chance to play with Missy.  
  
“Skitter?” Missy asked, twisting her neck to look up at me. “Could,” she flushed, and hesitated for half a second “Could you touch me more? Not just my rear?”  
  
“Of course, Missy,” I said, wiping my hands off on a towel I had grabbed from downstairs.  
  
Man, Missy was acting like this was some kind of big imposition. As if I ever needed a reason to touch Missy, to feel her soft skin (and hard muscles and harder bones, admittedly) underneath my fingers. Missy was so sweet, so soft, it was a joy to experience her with every sense I had.  
  
“So, where should I touch my sweet little maid?” I asked, a wide small on my face. My hands were already on her stomach, pressing down through the thin material  
  
“Anywhere you want,” Missy said quickly.  
  
Anywhere I wanted, huh? And I had the key to the chastity belt. I really could touch her anywhere. But no, that would be a huge violation of the deal we had made with each other. If Missy ever wanted me to touch her down there (and that seemed less and less likely every time I had her cum from a toy in her rear) then she would ask me to do so. Nothing would happen before then.  
  
Instead, I let my hands wander over Missy’s body. I was getting turned on, getting to touch such a cute little girl. She had such a wonderful body, and I could explore it to my heart’s content. Touching her face, going down her legs, teasing her stomach, there was practically nothing that was off limits to me. She was here, all for me.  
  
Sometimes, I wondered if I was doing something wrong. Missy was so cute, so sweet, so _vulnerable_. Was I taking advantage of her, doing these kinds of things to her? But she loved them so much. Hell, she often came a lot more then I did when it was time to reward her.  
  
On the other hand, was she really safe here? And not just the risk from other gangs, like the Klanners coming up from New York. Was she safe from _me_? Should she really be spending so much time with, well, Skitter? Did I really want to see Missy corrupted and living with me as my maid?  
  
I shook my head. That was something to think about later, when I had the time. So not for the next week, at least, probably. There was going to be enough going on that I was going to busy with all sorts of things. And right now I was busy with Missy.  
  
“You know, Missy,” I said, “there’s an ancient, let’s say it’s Korean, art to stimulate the growth of breasts. Want me to try it out on you?”  
  
I really was good at lying, wasn’t I? It was a ridiculous, unbelievable lie, but it was one that I said with a straight face. I wasn’t even sure why I said it, beyond wanting to play with Missy’s breasts some more.  
  
Missy nodded, not seeming to see a need to comment on what I said. Just as well, I supposed. I let my hands glide down the front of her blouse to her small breasts. And I did mean small. There was barely anything there, but that just made it all the more fun to touch her. There was something so _appealing_ about how small and unformed Missy was, something wonderful in her youthfulness.  
  
Even if that youthfulness had been scarred already. I wondered how she had gotten that wound along her breast. It seemed like a pretty serious one, too. Well, it didn’t really detract from her beauty. Missy was still so sweet to me, even with the minor physical blemishes.  
  
“Mmmh,” Missy muttered, barely at the edge of hearing. I could feel her nipples slowly stiffening underneath my fingers, and I smiled. It felt wonderful.  
  
“I’m glad you like it,” I said, smiling widely. “Just keep on laying there.”  
  
“Do I have a choice?” Missy asked, a small smile on her face as she wiggled a bit.  
  
“Of course you do,” I replied softly. “Just say the word, and I’ll get you out from there. Do you want that?”  
  
Missy shook her head so quickly it was obvious she hadn’t had time to think about it. It was so clear that she just wanted to have a say in things. And that was fine with me. Especially if I could keep playing with her small breasts, each of them so tiny my palm more then covered them.  
  
Missy was staring up at me, a funny look on her face. It was a nice look, a look of arousal that I had gotten very familiar with. But it still wasn’t one that seemed entirely appropriate for just teasing her nipples.  
  
“What are you thinking about, Missy?” I asked, a tiny smile on my face.  
  
“Nothing,” Missy squeaked, turning red. Now I _had_ to know. “Just, uh, I think you’ve done as much for my breasts as you can. Ma’am.”  
  
“Mm, I suppose so,” I said, sliding my hands out of her blouse. She softly sighed. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Well, my rear still hurts, ma’am,” Missy said, shaking her hips a bit from side to side. “But it’s a _good_ kind of hurt, you know? It makes me think of you.”  
  
_Wow_ , that was embarrassing. I could feel my face heat up until it had to be the same color as Missy’s ass. She just whipped something like that out there, huh? No word of warning or anything.  
  
It, it was nice to know that Missy thought of me. I thought of her, too, probably more often then I really should. She was so nice and sweet and a joy to… play with. But to actually hear the words just brought out into the open like that, well, it was something else entirely. I had no idea how to respond to something like that.  
  
Missy seemed shocked at the effect of her words on me. Her jaw opened and closed, not making a single sound. Finally, she looked away. I could see a large blush forming on her face, probably almost as intense as the one on mine.  
  
“What time is it?” Missy asked.  
  
“Uh,” I eloquently answered, glad for the distraction. “Too damn late. I _really_ need to get back to work.” There was a _ton_ of work I needed to do, and I supposed my break to recharge my mental batteries had gone on for long enough. “And I suppose you should be getting home. And _staying_ home over the weekend, got it?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” Missy said, a flash of disappointment on her face. Well, tough. A bit of loneliness would beat whatever Stonewall or the other bastards would do to her if they caught her here. Or even just on the street. “And, good luck with everything.”  
  
“You’d better wish me luck getting these knots undone,” I said, laughing as if I was feeling funny.  
  
I was pretty good at tying knots, because when I’m sliding down the wall of a twenty-story building, I wanted to make certain I stayed _sliding_ and not falling. But untying the ropes afterwards? That wasn’t something I really had a lot of experience with. And if I tried to cut them, that would be a sharp knife jerking around, right next to Missy’s skin. That was to be avoided, obviously.  
  
Then, thankfully, a loop came loose. After that, all the rest of them came undone pretty quickly. After a minute or two of struggling, the final cords came off like nothing.  
  
“Got it!” I said, feeling quite glad over getting the knots undone. The ropes slithered from her wrists, pooling on her back. “And now for the elbows…”  
  
I had to smile a bit as Missy rubbed her wrists, just like everyone who got tied up in every TV show ever. It was a cute little gesture, from a cute little girl. But there was still a lot more to go. The ropes around her legs, her ankles, her body, her elbows… man, had I gone overboard? No, the videos I had studied had the girls in them wearing even more ropes. And with nothing between their skin and the ropes.  
  
The ropes around her elbows was a lot easier to get off. Just a few tugs, and the knots came undone. I whisked the rope away. Next time, assuming there was a next time, should go even easier. Both tying and untying Missy.  
  
“I can get the rest, ma’am,” Missy said, as I turned her over.  
  
“You sure?” I asked, making it clear that I wasn’t sure. “Here, I’ll at least get down around your ankles.”  
  
I leaned down to unwind the rope around her ankles while she focused on the cords binding her torso. It was a pretty quick job, with the two of us working together. In only a few minutes, all of the rope was neatly stored in a circle on my bed, and Missy was standing in front of me, doing a series of stretches.  
  
And now it was time for Missy to leave. Here, at least. Now that she had full control over herself, I got a funny kind of itching feeling at the though of her being able to poke around in my rooms. This really was _my_ space, not anyone else’s.  
  
“Here, I’ll walk you downstairs,” I said, offering my arm to her.  
  
Missy walked pretty gingerly, wincing every now and then. Hopefully, that was just the pins and needles of feeling returning to her limbs and nothing more serious. But she managed the stairs well enough that I had a feeling that the reason she was holding onto my arm so tightly didn’t have to do with her balance.  
  
We got down to the second floor without any problems. Missy’s bag of street clothes was there, since I had grabbed it along with the towel and the cream. I would have loved to spend more time with her, maybe not even as a maid and mistress, but there just weren’t enough hours in the day to do that and all of the other, more important, tasks I had.  
  
Missy started undressing, sliding out of her maid uniform and neatly folding it. I remembered that we had left the headdress upstairs. Oh well. The chance to see more and more of Missy’s body revealed was a lovely treat. Her small, tight (red) ass, her even tinier breasts, the smooth lines of her limbs, everything about her was such a treat.  
  
Finally, Missy was left in nothing but the shining metal belt wrapped around her hips. And her stiff nipples, jutting out from her chest. I felt a sudden urge to reach over and tease them, just to see the look on her face. Missy had the cutest sort of expressions.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” Missy said, putting her arms behind her back. “Um, I’ll need the key,” She continued, tapping the chastity belt with a ringing sound.  
  
“Are you sure you need it?” I asked, smiling slightly as my hand went into my shorts pocket. “I could easily see you spending a day locked up. And,” I could feel my eyes glittering as a, well, fantasy, sprang to life in my mind, “I could tie you up as well. You’d get to feel that soft rope rubbing against your bare skin for hours and hours. Nobody would know but the two of us. Wouldn’t that be fun?”  
  
Oh, I could already see it. All the squeaks and moans she would make as I teased her and played with her, and just flat-out _appreciated_ a naked, tied-up Missy. Even if I knew there was no way to make it happen today.  
  
“Maybe later,” Missy said in a squeaking voice. Her face showed that she liked the idea almost as much as I did. “I don’t, I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”  
  
“You’re probably right,” I said, concealing my regret as I fished the key out. I unlocked the belt and it fell to the ground with a clunk, two separate halves.  
  
Missy leaned forward and grabbed her clothes out of the bag she had brought. It was sad to see her leave. What was the stupid saying? I hate to say goodbye but I love to watch you go? Well, that did seem to fit Missy. The sight of that cute little ass was always a tempting one, even when it was covered up by jeans.  
  
But at least I still got the chance to see Missy naked. For just a moment, I got to see her naked body. And what a sweet, sweet sight it was. She didn’t have a _perfect_ body. I noticed (again) a scar along her breast, but such minor things couldn’t detract from how cute her young body was.  
  
“I hope you stay safe on your way back home,” I said, wanting to reach out and touch Missy. “And during the weekend.”  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” Missy replied, far too breezily to make me feel better. “And I hope you do as well.”  
  
She finished tying her shoes and straightened up. She looked at me, and paused for a second. Then she took a quick step forward and pushed herself up.  
  
Almost before I knew what was happening, Missy was kissing me. Kissing me again. It wasn’t for as long as the first kiss had been, but it was still just as wonderful feeling.  
  
Then Missy pulled back, her face a bright, scarlet red. She dashed for the door, moving just short of an outright run. I watched her leave, not saying anything. I wasn’t sure what _to_ say.  
  
I slowly lifted my fingers and pressed them against my lips. It was like I could still feel the pressure from Missy’s lips on my own. They had been so soft.  
  
I realized that I was blushing, almost as much as Missy had been. I wheeled on my heel and headed for the stairs. I could think over this as I got dressed, getting out of these shorts and t-shirt into something that would command some more respect.  
  
Missy… What was it I wanted out of her? Let’s be real, it wasn’t for her cleaning services. And it wasn’t just too have some eye candy around the place. Charlotte was quite attractive, in her own way, and I had never felt the least desire to tell her what she could and couldn’t wear.  
  
Was it the sex? Maybe. But I knew that I spent a lot more time playing with Missy’s body then she spent tending to my needs. Was it the chance to tell someone what they could and couldn’t do? But I was _Skitter_. I had that ‘chance’ several times a day, even when I was trying to sleep or eat.  
  
So what was it about Missy that made her so attractive to me? I wasn’t sure. Maybe I should spend some more time with her to figure it out. And not just time spent watching my cute little maid for a slipup that I could punish her for. Actually _spend time_ with Missy. Did she like tea? Something like that, maybe.  
  
When, if, we met up on Monday, then I thought we might want to do something outside the normal. Instead of the normal spanking and teasing and fucking her ass, we could be weird, and watch a movie together.  
  
I snorted to myself as I dressed. I tugged the mask onto my face, the world taking on a yellow tint as I stared out of the lenses. Time to get to work.  
  
First, visit Parian. She was always the one who was the most… unsteady when it came to fights. And hell, maybe pick her brains a bit about what it was like to be with another woman. After that, go to Grue’s place for the team meeting, followed by whipping the minions up.  
  
And after that, handle whatever emergencies, crises and disasters had happened in the last two hours. Simple.  
  
I headed out, nodding goodbye to Charlotte as I passed her. She briefly smiled at me before bending back down over her paperwork. Wasn’t sure what I would do without her to handle so much of day to day stuff.

*******

Five minutes later, I let myself into Parian’s workshop. Above me, Atlas settled down on top of the roof, waiting for me to call him back. It had been as thrilling as ever to ride him, to look down at the city and see all the tiny people, the glittering lights, all of it.  
  
On the downside, he hadn’t been responding in quite the right way. I was probably going to need to take him in for a tune-up soon. A bug his size just really wasn’t meant to be, I supposed. But there was no way I was going to give up on him, even if it meant constant visits while he was strengthen once again.  
  
I sat down on the couch in the antechamber, waiting for her. I had plucked the multi-colored cord before coming in, so I _knew_ she was aware that I had arrived. In fact, my bugs could sense her a few rooms over, packing some things away. It was just her, it seemed. No Foil, or any of the underlings she reluctantly had around.  
  
Reluctantly was a good word to describe Parian’s attitude towards everything Undersider related, really. Sometimes I felt bad over dragging her into this. There wasn’t much chance of her ever going to Paris or wherever high fashion was these days, not with everything that had happened.  
  
“Hello, Skitter,” Parian said, seeming to glide up out of the darkness.  
  
Quite literally, too. Maybe she had redesigned her costume since I last saw her, or maybe she had a couple of almost-identical costumes. Either way, now her skirts reached to the floor, and she seemed to float forward. It was an impressive look.  
  
“Hello, Parian,” I said, standing up and extending my hand.  
  
Our gloved hands met for a moment, before Parian turned. I followed her deeper into her workshop, winding through the maze of short hallways and cramped rooms as we went to the usual meeting place. In most of the rooms were the deflated animals she used for combat, hanging on the walls or piled in stacks. It was disconcerting, honestly.  
  
“How are you doing?” I asked Parian as we walked through the empty building.  
  
“Fine,” she replied. “Well, worried. This Brotherhood,” she paused for a minute. “I don’t like the sounds of them.”  
  
“I don’t blame you,” I said, studying the back of her head. Her blonde wig hung down below the top of her dress, and I couldn’t see a single hint of skin. “They’re violent scum, who are just in it for the money.”  
  
“So unlike us,” Parian muttered, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.  
  
There wasn’t an easy answer to that. A couple of ethically-based answers that _sounded_ easy came to mind, but from past experience I knew that Parian had counters to them that were a lot tougher to argue with. Instead, I focused on the here and now, the nitty gritty. Instead, I focused on the here and now, the nitty gritty.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Parian.” I said. “We’ve got enough muscle behind us, there’s no way they’ll do anything but become a smear in the road.”  
  
Parian nodded, jerkily. I stopped myself from sighing. Her hearing really was too keen for that to be a good idea. It wasn’t that Parian was a coward. She just didn’t like fighting. And that was fair, I didn’t like fighting either. I was sure that I could get the thrill of adrenaline some other way.  
  
But, unlike Parian, there was only so much I was willing to be pushed around. Okay, that wasn’t fair to her. She wasn’t _weak_ , she just wasn’t _aggressive_. Which was fairly close in this city, in this world of parahumans.  
  
By now, we were in her private workshop. It was a crowded room, stuffed with mannequins, bolts of cloth, racks of clothing, and a large desk that was heaped to the brim with books and photos and drawings. Some things never changed.  
  
Parian sat down in front of her desk as I took the other chair in the room. She swiveled to face me, her face hidden underneath the cracked white mask she wore. I reached up and tugged my own mask off, blinking as I took my glasses out of a pouch and put them on.  
  
“It’s okay to be nervous,” I said, looking at Parian, seeing a hint of her eyes behind the mask. “But I _know_ that Lily is going to be by your side the entire time. Doesn’t that help?”  
  
Parian shrugged, the twitch of her shoulders barely noticeable. One hand played with a pen on her desk, twirling it around in her fingers. Except for that, there wasn’t any movement.  
  
“Yeah, Lily will be with me,” Parian answered, her voice slightly muffled. “And she’ll be with me when the next gang comes. And the next. And the next. Until she or I aren’t there for each other anymore.”  
  
“There aren’t going to be many more, Parian,” I said, injecting confidence into my words. “A decisive victory will really make it clear that we can’t be challenged.” And some permanent maimings, as well, I thought. No need to upset Parian with that, though. “People will know better then to try and mess with us. You’ll see.”  
  
The pen stopped. There wasn’t a breath of movement from Parian. Right now she really did look like a doll. A Victorian dress all the way up to her chin, the mask covering her face, and the artificial hair of her wig.  
  
“Uh huh,” Parian said, setting the pen down. “Maybe that will happen.” I knew that she was remembering similar speeches I had given several times before. She straightened up a bit. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about, Skitter?”  
  
“Yes, actually,” I said, feeling the faintest of blushes creeping up along my face. “Do you remember Missy, the girl I brought in for a fitting?”  
  
“Yes,” Parian said, reaching up and unfastening her mask. Her brown features were revealed, her intelligent eyes dancing much more now. “What about her.”  
  
“Well,” I cleared my throat and crossed my legs. “You and Foil, you’re… in charge, aren’t you?”  
  
This was so much more embarrassing and harder to discuss then I had thought it would be. It was so much easier to hash out plans with Lisa and Brian over who should go where and do what. But Parian would think of me as an even bigger idiot then I was already acting if I just shut up now.  
  
“We love each other, Skitter,” Parian said, crossing her legs underneath her dress. “I only tell her to do things I know she’s willing to do.”  
  
“And how do you know that?” I asked. “How can you tell what the limits are before you reach them?”  
  
“We’ve talked about it,” Parian said, leaning forward a bit. “Right at the start, we both knew what was going to happen between us. And that hasn’t changed in the past few years.” A frown crossed her face. “So are you and… Missy getting together?”  
  
“Maybe. Probably,” I shrugged. “We’ve kissed a couple of times.” Parian didn’t need to hear that the kisses had been broken up by a steady stream of ass-fuckings and spankings. “And when I think of her, I want… I’m not sure what I want.”  
  
“And I can’t give that to you,” Parian said, raising her eyebrows. “You’re really going to have to talk with her. Figure out what you’re thinking, and where you want the boundaries to be. That’s not something I can do for you.”  
  
“Of course, of course,” I said, holding my hands up. “And I was planning to talk with her the next time we saw each other, anyway.” Although the conversation was going to have to change now, based on what Parian was telling me. “Any other ideas you have?”  
  
“Ideas because I’m a lesbian in love with another woman, or because I’m a dom?” Parian asked a tad snippily.  
  
“Either? Both?” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m playing things by ear here, and I’d welcome another person’s insight.”  
  
“I’m surprised you aren’t asking the Mistress of All Knowledge,” Parian said, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling. She was quiet for a minute. “I’d say the most important thing to do is to make certain you don’t push too hard. Verbally, emotionally, even, heh,” Parian’s lips twitched up in a brief smile, “even physically. You’ve both got to take things at a pace you can handle. You get what I’m saying?”  
  
“Of course,” I said, nodding my head. “We _are_ using safe words, after all.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s a good start,” Parian said. “But… listen, having sex isn’t all Foil and I do. It isn’t even most of what we do, and _no_ , I’m not going to tell you anything about it.” I wasn’t going to ask. “But we go out on dates, walk around the city, have meals with each other, we do tons of stuff together. We don’t need to touch each other to have a good time. Just seeing her there can be enough for me,” Parian finished, with a small smile and blush on her face.  
  
I nodded. I had already thought that Missy and I needed to spend some more time doing things besides sex, but this just underlined the need in a heavy hand. At least I had some ideas for what to do with Missy. And I was sure she had some interests and hobbies of her own.  
  
“And you’ve still got to let her breathe,” Parian continued. “I love Lilly, but if we had to spend all day, every day with each other, we’d probably kill each other. Be sure to give her some space. And I mean real space, not just dropping a bug on her while you go around the block.”  
  
“Why would I need to do that,” I replied calmly. “I know where she lives and where she works. Isn’t that enough?”  
  
Parian looked at me as if she was trying to decide if I was joking or not. I looked back at her flatly, not revealing a thing. After a moment, she shook her head.  
  
“I’m not sure what exactly to tell you, Skitter,” Parian said. “Lily is the only girl I’ve seriously dated. I don’t have much to say that you couldn’t find in a guide to relationships online or something.”  
  
“That’s stuff so impersonal,” I said, frowning. “And you’re the only one in the group I can talk to about this. It’s not like Foil would want to hobnob with me about how you tie her up or whatever it is you do.”  
  
And I really didn’t know. Not only was Dolltown well outside my range if I was in most of my territory, I did my best to pass people by with bugs if they were making love. And Parian and Foil were no exception.  
  
“Okay, Skitter,” Parian said, fixing me with a look. “You know, when I think about what Lily and I have together, when I think about what brings a smile to my face, it isn’t just sex, okay? It isn’t even mostly sex.”  
  
Parian paused and gestured in front of her, trying to shape her thoughts. Finally, she gave up and slumped back into her chair.  
  
“When my heart beats faster because of Lily, it’s because I’m thinking of how she looks when she wakes up. How nice it is to wrap my arm around her as we walk our dogs. Yes, Lily and I have sex. And the sex is good because it’s with _Lily_ , not because I’m having sex with a Japanese girl with a cute smile. Do you get what I’m saying?”  
  
I did. And I stopped to think to _really_ think about Missy in that light. Yes, yes, I thought there was more to my attraction to Missy then that she was a tiny blonde girl. There wasn’t _much_ more, but I thought I could change that.  
  
“I see. Thank you, Parian,” I said, smiling at her. “You’ve _really_ given me a lot to think about.”  
  
“Not at all,” Parian said modestly, glancing up at a clock on the wall as she did so. “Just, _please_ , don’t repeat any of this to anyone, understand?”  
  
“Of course,” I said, glancing up at the clock as well. Yeah, it was time for us to get going, especially since we’d be on foot. “By the way, Parian,” I said, standing up. “If I brought Missy in, would you mind doing another set of clothes for her?”  
  
“I suppose not,” Parian said, settling her mask back over her face. “If the two of you stained the maid costume, I _don’t_ want to know how you did it.”  
  
“No, nothing like that,” I snorted. “Actually, I was thinking that she might look cute dressed up as Vista.”  
  
I didn’t need to see Parian’s face to picture the look of surprise on it. But she just nodded after a second.  
  
“Sure. Bring her by sometime, and I’ll see what I can do. Why Vista?”  
  
“Why, I think she would look cute dressed up as a superheroine,” I said, giving only one of the reasons I had. “Don’t you?”  
  
“I like my women to be _women_ , thanks,” Parian said neutrally as she walked with me out of her workshop.  
  
“She’s only a few years younger then me,” I replied, nettled. This still wasn’t an argument I wanted to get drawn into, since the odds of it going well for me were so low. “Anyway, thank you for the offer.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Parian said, holding the door open for me. I stepped outside, feeling the cool night air even with my mask on. “Half charge if you bring the materials in like last time.”  
  
“Will do,” I said, starting down the street towards Brian’s place. “Anything you want to bring up at the meeting?”  
  
Above us, Atlas took into the air, following us in long, lazy circles as we walked. I would have offered Parian a lift, but with Atlas in ill health, I didn’t want to risk it. Anyways, the exercise was good for me.  
  
The two of us talked a bit as we walked the dozen blocks or so towards Grue’s. The people on the street kept a wide berth from the both of us, though I could feel a lot of them taking out phones after we passed. If they were stupid enough to call the cops on us, they were going to be very disappointed by the response the boys in blue gave them.  
  
Two-thirds of the way there, we were joined by Foil. Parian jumped a bit as her girlfriend melted out of the alleyway and got in close to her. I had recognized Foil’s distinctive weapon and rigid mask several moments ago.  
  
“Hello, Foil,” I said, once the two of them were done with their greetings and light teasing.  
  
“Hello, Skitter,” Foil said.  
  
After that, we walked in silence to Grue’s headquarters. Not the most subtle of approaches, but after so long in control here, there was no real way to keep ourselves secret. Brockton Bay had to know that we were here.  
  
We were the last ones to arrive, which, on a team with Imp and Bitch, was quite the accomplishment. I saw the ridiculously tacky limo Imp had bought, pulling away from the front of the apartment building Grue used as his base. No real, or at least normal, tenants, but there was plenty of room for the foot soldiers he made use of.  
  
The three of us were let into the lobby, and I nodded at the large woman who was guarding the gate. We both knew each other, and she had to have known we were coming. No trouble at all, unlike that story Grue had once told me about an insurance salesman last year who had picked the wrong building to be pushy on.  
  
Two minutes later, we were settling down into Grue’s operation room. The walls of an apartment had been knocked down and cleaned up, to make a spot big enough for all of us and our tributary gangs to meet in. Tonight, though, it was just us. And Cozen, since Grue’s wife was hard to push out of the picture, when she had powers and was the leader of the Red Hand.  
  
Even with an entire apartment converted into a meeting room, it was still kind of cramped. Grue, Tattletale, Bitch, Imp (although if she was here, I couldn’t see her), Cozen, Parian, Foil, Phage and myself. And a table big enough for us all to sit down around. That didn’t leave a whole lot of room for anything else.  
  
“Hey, Skitter,” Tattletale said as soon as we walked in. She stood up from her spot and walked over to me, arms up for a hug.  
  
I returned the gesture, and we pulled apart, both of us smiling. I got the better deal, since Tattletale was still sticking with her large domino mask. Her white teeth flashed in the bright lighting of the room as she led me back to the table.  
  
“How’s it going with you?” Tattletale asked, sitting down and leaning back in her chair.  
  
“I’m feeling pretty good,” I answered, sitting down next to her (and shoving some of her papers over to her side). “Everything in my territory is ticking over pretty nicely.”  
  
Lisa stared at me for just an instant too long, and then her smile blossomed. I blushed, guessing that she had been using her power to read something into my words that I hadn’t even put there.  
  
“Yeah, I see that maid of yours is still doing her job,” Tattletale said, “and not a thing she shouldn’t be, right?”  
  
I nodded, and was just about to reply when Grue rose from his seat at the head of the table. He cleared his throat, the echoing tone he made proof that he was generating darkness inside his helmet.  
  
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. Word from New York is that the N.A.B. is packing up, and should be starting to leave tonight. The main force should arrive on Saturday morning, and stragglers should keep on coming through the weekend. I want to make certain that we smash Stonewall and his bunch as soon as they arrive, so we can pick the latecomers off at our leisure.”  
  
That started a multi-sided conversation, about who should be doing what and where and how. For all that there were a ton of voices, I had to admit that things seemed to be going more smoothly then when it had just been the five of us, when I had just been starting out. The powers of teamwork, I supposed. And from us all agreeing that the Brotherhood should be stomped flat. Phage was the only one here who would, hypothetically, not get unwelcome attention as a civvy.  
  
Grue and Imp were black, Parian was Arabian, Foil was Japanese, it had been made painfully clear (not that the pain was on my part) that I looked Jewish, and Cozen and Tattletale were too pretty to not get harassed. And Bitch, of course, was Bitch.  
  
Not a single one of us had any reason to like the Brotherhood, any more then we had liked the Empire. So, the only question any of us had was how best to stomp them flat into the ground. It was going to be tough, of course. The whole reason they were leaving New York was because they had shown that they were tough and numerous enough to tussle with Legend and his high-powered team and not get destroyed instantly. But we had some advantages even the NYC Protectorate didn’t. One of them was sitting at the head of the table.  
  
I looked up at Grue. Sometimes I wondered what it was like, being the only guy on the main team. I certainly wouldn’t have like being the only girl on the Undersiders, even if I had an attractive boyfriend on the side. But he was taking command of the debate, just like I did when we were meeting at my place, or Tattletale did at hers. It was good to see. I had to admit, Cozen had helped him along with that. So did Aisha and me, but… Well, the important thing was that he was able to be a leader again, even if he shared the spotlight.  
  
“Should we bother informing the white hats?” Imp asked, making half the table jump or flinch at her sudden appearance.  
  
“No need,” Tattletale said. “They know the Klan is coming up here. Hell, I found out because I was browsing their situation updates. They’ll be doing their own thing. No need for us to cooperate.”  
  
Assuming we even could, Tattletale didn’t say. The only good relations we had with the Protectorate and the PRT were the ones we were bribing. That didn’t exactly build a good working relationship, not in the field.  
  
The meeting slowly ran down as we hashed out our lines of attack. Or of defense, I supposed. Either way, we all knew where we were supposed to be, spread across the south and eastern parts of the city.  
  
We were all getting ready to go (Imp, possibly, already had left). Bitch had her feet up on the table, slowly stroking the top of Bastard’s head as she looked at everyone in turn. Cozen and Grue were getting pretty close to each other and I turned my head away from them. Petty, but there was also no reason to look. Tattletale turned to me, closing her laptop and sliding it into a bag.  
  
“Feeling confident?” Lisa asked, giving me another large smile.  
  
“I’m feeling pumped up,” I answered honestly. “I’m more then ready to show these scum who runs the Bay.”  
  
“Yeah, I bet. Not a surprise you put yourself right at the front of the action. And we can to the bigger briefing around, oh, let’s say six tomorrow morning,” Tattletale said. “Skitter, you mind coming with me for that?”  
  
“Sure thing,” I said, running down the list of who all would be there.  
  
Lisa’s mercs. The rest of the Red Hand, though Cozen should be briefing them tonight as well. Bitch’s crew would be briefed (or not) by her, and there was _no_ way I was going to piss her off by doing it myself. The Heartbroken as well, though we’d need Imp along to actually make them listen to anything we said.  
  
And we (and by _we_ I meant _me_ ) should have a chat with Phage and Starstruck as well, in private. The thought of those two still made me shudder. As weird (I had to admit it) as Missy and I were, it was still a lot healthier than _them_. I’d never felt anything for Dad or Mom, and I was sure that if I had a sibling, that would stay the case.  
  
Still, it would be good to have them on our side, even if they very much took the backseat when it came to… everything, really. After all this time, Phage was still the only healer we had, and she got… _touchy_ about Grue leaching off her powers to lighten the workload. It was nice to have her on our side, I just wished she got along better with Tattletale and Grue. It was hard work, being the point of contact between them and the rest of the team, on top of everything else I had going on.  
  
That was going to be a lot of meetings, even if we could get most of them together. But Phage was too damn reclusive for her own good (or my convivence at least, which were almost the same things). I’d need to head to their hideout to talk to them. Just a phone call wouldn’t do. Wouldn’t show the right kind of respect for what they brought to the table.  
  
Anyway, I’d need to stock up on supplies from her. No way to send _that_ stuff through a cell phone! And get Atlas checked up as well, getting all the problems that came from a bug much too large to exist in nature fixed. And hopefully I wouldn’t walk in on them blowing off steam in their usual way.  
  
I nodded at Phage as Tattletale and I left the room. She didn’t nod back, since she was looking down at her phone. Starstruck, probably.  
  
Over the course of the meeting, I had noticed more and more people arriving at the apartment building, filling up in the lobby. The unpowered muscle we had, or the leaders and sergeants thereof, I supposed. There were enough of them to make the lobby feel pretty cramped, and would have been a problem if anybody lived here who didn’t work for Grue or the rest of us.  
  
And now Tattletale and I were heading down to meet them. Grue was staying up in the conference room, chatting with Cozen. Bit of a breach of the completely unwritten, informal etiquette we had, to do this kind of thing in another Undersider’s HQ without them present. But if he didn’t care enough to follow, that was that.  
  
The elevator doors opened, and Tattletale and I stepped out into the lobby. It took up a good half of the ground floor, and it was still standing room only. Everyone in it turned to look at us, in a rippling wave that stopped conversations and brought men to their feet.  
  
It was almost ridiculous, really. Men twice our age and three times our weight, shutting up and standing up, just because Lisa and I were in the room. A good chunk of them were smart, too, as smart as us. And yet, we were the ones in charge.  
  
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Tattletale said, hopping up onto a end table and knocking the potted plant on it over. “You lot ready for some fun?”  
  
There was a muted rumble of laughter and anticipation. People shifted from side to side, eyeing each other with a hungry zeal. They looked ready for a fight. I wondered how many would be looking so hearty and healthy by Sunday night.  
  
“Those sisterfuckers in the Brotherhood couldn’t even handle what the good guys dished out, and now they’re coming up here,” Tattletale called out, her voice full of glee and cheer. “They think they can just waltz in here and sit themselves up as lords of the plantation. Anybody think they’ve got the guts to do it?”  
  
Tattletale kept on working the crowd up. Not that she had that tough of a job to do, really. These guys (and the third of the guys that were women) were all bought and paid for by us, after all. I knew that they weren’t _loyal_ loyal, not like I was to Tattletale or anything, but it would take a lot more than some unproven white supremiscts to get them to defect.  
  
I divided my attention between watching Tattletale and watching the crowd. I knew maybe a quarter of the people here. Well, I knew their names. When it came to knowing _who_ they were, that was a way smaller number I could vouch for.  
  
But they hadn’t gotten to the upper ranks of our muscle by being weak or lazy. They’d do their job over the next few days, scrapping with the Brotherhood’s own unpowered muscle. And, hopefully, not getting too torn up by whatever capes they encountered.  
  
“We’ll show them what Brockton Bay is made out of!” Tattletale finished, raising a clenched fist into the air and waving it around.  
  
There were a bunch of answering cheers and fists. I knew a good chunk of the people cheering weren’t really from here. They’d just come for the money, and only cared about Brockton Bay to the extent of their next paycheck. But then again, it wasn’t like Lisa was a native either. I should just take what I could get and not get so… so.  
  
The meeting broke up, the soldiers filing out through the front doors as Tattletale hopped down from the end table. I thought she was very lucky that bit of plastic had been able to support her weight. The meeting would not have gotten off to a good start if our muscle saw her falling flat on her face.  
  
“So, how did I do?” Tattletale asked, cheerily enough that it was clear she had already decided on an answer.  
  
“Pretty good,” I replied. “Where are you off to now?”  
  
“Laval’s got a car waiting for me around back,” Lisa said, jerking her thumb towards the rear of the building. “I’m off back home to do some more prep. What about you?”  
  
“I’ve still got some more meetings to take care of,” I answered vaguely. For one, I’d just as soon not listen to Tattletale’s badly disguised cattiness about Phage and Starstruck. For another, my other meeting wasn’t something I wanted to talk about with _anyone_. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so,” Lisa said, walking towards the corridor that would take her to the rear of the building and the idling car. “Be sure to get some sleep, Taylor. You’re no good half dead from fatigue.”  
  
“Same to you,” I replied. “Critical thinking skills are the first to go, aren’t they?”  
  
“That’s why God invented coffee,” Tattletale laughed, waving goodbye. “See you soon!”  
  
I waved in response, smiling underneath my mask. And soon after Lisa vanished from sight, my face fell. Phage and Starstruck had already left. Well, I could meet up with them later. And that would mean…  
  
And there was one more meeting as well. One that would have to happen before any of the others. I wasn’t looking forward to it. I’d been with my… maid, right up until she had begged me to stop. I had been with an assortment of thieves, murderers and rapists. And now, it was time for what I was certain was going to be the toughest, most emotionally upsetting meeting of them all.  
  
It was time to go meet my dad. I called down Atlas from the roof and climbed onto him. It was a long ride from the center of the city out to where my dad was living now. Long enough for me to start feeling far too worried for my own good. This wasn’t a big deal. It was just a simple chat, and warning him about what was going to happen over the weekend. I sighed, wishing I believed it would be that simple.  
  
I landed in the backyard. Nobody saw me, especially at this time of night. Dad was still up, watching the TV and slowly nursing a beer. He had taken maybe five sips since I got in range.  
  
I changed out from being Skitter to being Taylor. The costume was taken off, folded up, and I put on some normal jeans and a hoodie. I still kept on a spider silk t-shirt, since it was so comfortable. My costume went into the same pouch draped over Atlas that I had taken my civvie clothes out of.  
  
Then I took a deep breath and turned towards the back door. I could do this. No problem at all. Just go up, knock on the door, and talk to Dad. Simple.  
  
I gave myself a push, and quickly walked along the grass towards the door. Once there, I knocked on it. I supposed I didn’t have the right to just come in unannounced, anymore.  
  
I could hear my dad standing up and walking over, the floorboards creaking underneath his weight. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. This wasn’t nearly as bad as everything else I had to do.  
  
The door slowly opened, revealing Dad. He looked about the same as ever. Some more grey in his hair, his shoulders a bit more slumped, but he was still my dad.  
  
“Hi,” I said, smiling briefly. And still more happily then I actually felt.  
  
“Taylor!” He sounded surprised and he took half a step back, his eyebrows rising behind his glasses. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I wanted to talk to you, Dad,” I said, rocking back and forth on my heels. “Can I come in?”  
  
“Sure, sure,” Dad replied, stepping back and holding the door open for me.  
  
I stepped inside, looking around. This was one place that didn’t change very much. It was still the home I had grown up in, the house I only rarely visited nowadays.  
  
Dad and I went through the kitchen into the living room. We both sat down as he turned off the TV and turned to face me. I put my hands flat on my thighs, willing myself to stop being so nervous.  
  
“So… why are you here?” Dad asked, quieter then was normal for him.  
  
I hesitated. Should I open up with real, no, the _important_ reasons? Or should we be, you know, father and daughter for a while.  
  
“Well, I wanted to see how you were doing, Dad,” I said, feeling sweat beading on the back of my neck. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”  
  
“Yes,” Dad said, his eyes sad behind his glasses. “It has, hasn’t it?” He sighed. “I’ve been fine. There’s more and more jobs available, so I’ve been keeping busy down at the Union building. Went out with Kurt and Sam the other day. Things have been going great.”  
  
Yeah. Things really sounded like they were going great. And now it was my turn to talk. I didn’t want to tell Dad about, well, ninety percent of what I did. But maybe there was one thing I could bring up, and still be able to look him in the eyes.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that, Dad,” I said, smiling about as sincerely as he was. “And I’ve been doing pretty good myself. I met this girl a few weeks ago and, well,” I coughed as I hastily edited out a lot about Missy, “we’ve been getting along together pretty well.”  
  
“How well is well?” Dad asked, his brows creasing as he stared at me. “And how did you meet her? She isn’t a…” he trailed off.  
  
“No, she isn’t a criminal, Dad,” I said. Even if Missy was too cute to be allowed. “She’s just a normal girl I met. And I… really do like her. I like her a lot. Her name’s Missy,” I added.  
  
Yeah, that was one way to put it. And I was censoring almost everything I knew about Missy. And this was still unutterably embarrassing.  
  
“That’s… good to hear,” Dad said, his relief at how Missy wasn’t… like me almost palpable. “Why don’t you bring her over sometime? I can pull the grill out and we can talk.”  
  
That sounded… like something, alright. It would also be more then we had done together in a while. But could I really bring Missy, the cute little girl I was fucking in the ass over to meet Dad? And were we really girlfriends yet? No, I realized, we weren’t. She really was my maid that I had sex with.  
  
And that should probably change. The two of us were going to have to have a long, _long_ talk with each other on Monday. And maybe I should have a talk with someone who had been in a long, loving relationship with a woman, and maybe had some advice to give.  
  
“Dad?” I asked, leaning forward, feeling nervous and just a bit humiliated for talking about this to my _dad_. “Do you…” my face felt as red as a tomato, but I kept on going, “have any advice for me?”  
  
There was a flicker of something in Dad’s eyes. It seemed like… pride? Happiness? I winced internally. Had I, we, really become so distant that something as simple as a single question was enough to make Dad feel like that?  
  
“Well,” Dad said, sitting back, and looking beyond me, “being in love… it’s great, you know? When I came home from my first date, not with your Mom,” he added, waving his hand, “it was a girl I knew in high school, I felt like I was walking on air. I felt _wonderful_. It didn’t work out,” he grinned, “but for a while there, we really _had_ something.”  
  
“I see,” I said, wondering if I felt like that with Missy. There was a bubbling sensation when I thought of Missy smiling, but was it the same as walking on air? “What about when you and Mom started getting really serious with each other?”  
  
“Your mother was always serious,” Dad said, amused by something. And also seeming kind of sad. “It wasn’t love at first sight or anything, but the more time we spent with each other… Not just dates, you know, but studying, talking to each other on the phone, all of it, the more we knew about each other, the more I found myself falling in love with her.”  
  
Dad was looking far past me, into the past. Heh, that was a pun, I supposed. I didn’t say anything.  
  
“I don’t know if there really is true love, Taylor,” Dad said, barely looking at me. “But during those early years, what she and I had was pretty close. It was like we were drunk off of each other. If we weren’t together, we were making plans to meet up again.”  
  
“Did something happen?” I asked, leaning forward and staring quizzically at him. “After the early years?”  
  
“I suppose you could call it that,” Dad said, wiggling his hand from side to side. “It wasn’t that we fell out of love. I’d say that our love… matured. It wasn’t quite as red hot and burning as it had been. But it was… fuller, maybe. I could just reach over and take Annette’s hand while she was reading. And that… that was worth a lot.”  
  
Dad sighed and raised a finger up underneath his glasses. I looked to one side while he wiped a tear away. Then he looked back, a wistful smile on his face.  
  
“I don’t know what you and this Missy girl have with each other,” Dad said, sighing. “But if it’s as good as what your mother and I had, then the two of you should be very happy with each other.”  
  
We sat in silence for a minute. Half of my mind was thinking about Mom, and half was thinking about Missy. It was weird to think of the two of them together. But I thought that Mom would have liked Missy. It was a pity that they would never meet. More then a pity. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I could think about might of beens later.  
  
“Yeah, maybe,” I replied vaguely. “But, well, there’s something else, Dad.”  
  
Dad nodded, and I realized that he knew there was something else. That I hadn’t, that I _wouldn’t_ come to see him just to tell him about a possible girlfriend. I was such a shitty daughter.  
  
“What is it, Taylor?”  
  
“There’s going to be a new gang trying to come into town over the weekend. The National Aryan Brotherhood. Just like the Empire, but with Confederate flags instead of swastikas.” Dad nodded, and leaned back, so that the light from the wall reflected off his glasses. “There’s going to be some fighting.”  
  
“And you’re going to be in it,” Dad said, sadly. I nodded, not looking up at his face.  
  
“Yeah, I am,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t get hurt. It’s not like I need to go punch somebody.”  
  
And it’s not like the Brotherhood was limited to punching back, either. Jump Away, Light Up, and a couple others had just as much range as I did. But why did Dad need to know that?  
  
“But, Dad,” I said, leaning forward. “I’m worried about _you_. They know who I am, and their Southern chivalry won’t stop them from attacking you to hurt me.”  
  
“So you want me to go into hiding,” Dad said, sounding tired. He slumped back and stared at the ceiling.  
  
“Yeah,” I said. “It won’t be for long, just over the weekend. You won’t have to miss work or anything. There’s already a safehouse along 45 th Avenue. You can go there, watch some TV, drink some beers, and come back here after a few days.”  
  
“And will you be there with me?” Dad asked, his eyes soft and defeated. I hated seeing that look in him.  
  
“No, Dad. I’m sorry,” I answered. “But I’ve got to be with my friends. They’re going to need my help.”  
  
“I knew you’d say that,” Dad said, looking to one side and speaking softly. “Just _call_ me, okay? I want to hear your voice, hear that these psychopaths haven’t hurt you.”  
  
“Of course I will,” I replied, digging a scrap of paper out of my pocket. “Here’s the address.” I hesitated. “Listen, I’d like it if you went there _tonight_. There’s already some gang members here in town. It might be best.”  
  
I winced, listening to myself bossing my dad around. I show up unannounced, do a bit of small talk, and then I start telling him to pack his bags and leave. Was this really who I should be? But it all made _sense_. I _should_ do things like this, even if I sounded like a grade-A bitch in the process.  
  
“If you think that’s for the best,” Dad said slowly, reaching out and taking the slip of paper. “I suppose I should do it. Help me get packed?”  
  
“Sure!” I said quickly, glad for the chance to act like the loving daughter I knew I was supposed to be.

*******

I sighed as the apartment door closed. Dad was settled in, with a cable subscription and enough food to last him for the weekend. He shouldn’t need to leave the apartment for anything for the next few days. And that was a _load_ off my mind.  
  
I climbed the stairs to the top of the apartment building. Atlas had shadowed me and Dad on our way here. It was time to get back into business-mode. Phage and Starstruck, and then, assuming nothing else had happened, I could head back home and get some sleep.  
  
Atlas greeted me as I opened the roof access door. He nuzzled at me with his widely spaced horns. I smiled, even as I acknowledged that it was _me_ doing this. I patted the top of his head as I walked around to the side.  
  
The night air, on top of an apartment building fifteen stories high was a _really good_ incentive to change as quickly as possible. Soon, my civilian clothes were tucked away, and I was looking out at the world through a pair of yellow lenses.  
  
I climbed on top of Atlas, and strapped myself in. A few synthetic cords around my legs, and I was comfortably seated in the saddle. I urged Atlas on, towards the edge of the roof. Imp had once kindly informed me of how ridiculous I looked riding Atlas when he was walking, but she wasn’t here to deafen me in one ear with her laughter. There was just me, Atlas, and the hundred and fifty foot he was headed towards.  
  
This was going to be fun.  
  
I had Atlas hesitate, right on the edge of the roof. I looked down, at the cars slowly moving along the street far, far down below. Everything was so tiny from the right point of view.  
  
Then I kicked Atlas forward, throwing the both of us over the edge. Instantly, we started falling, plummeting towards the street. It was _exhilarating_.  
  
Atlas’s wings were already beating, thrumming away. And we had already passed three stories, with the people down below growing larger and larger. The wind whistled past me, drowning out everything else.  
  
And then Atlas’s wings caught. The two of us soared up into the air. I laughed, feeling the wind tugging at me. It was impossible to get tired of this. Soaring through the air, so far above the ground, it was better then almost anything else I did. It was so liberating, so freeing. Just me and Atlas, high, high up in the sky.  
  
I had Atlas do a roll, just for the hell of it. I felt my hair hang down, fluttering in the wind as the world revolved around me. God, this was fun.  
  
The thought came to me that I could take Missy up here. She was light enough that Atlas could handle the both of us, especially once he revitalized. Hell, maybe _that_ could be a way to bond with each other. Holding close to each other (we wouldn’t have any other choice), soaring through the clouds, laughing and giggling as we went.  
  
The wide smile on my face had more then just the usual enjoyment of flying to it. That could be really, really fun. Assuming she was willing to get onto Atlas, of course. A giant beetle, even one as beautiful as Atlas, took some people the wrong way. Sierra, for one, refused to even be in the same _room_ as him.  
  
Yeah. That could be really fun to do. I enjoyed the flight over the city more than normal, as I sped towards Phage’s and Starstruck’s lair. And there were all kinds of things Missy and I could talk about, once we were alone, high up in the sky with nobody else around.  
  
I nodded in satisfaction as I started circling down towards the building Phage and Starstruck had made their home. Empty buildings were getting harder and harder to find these days, with the portal boom. So those two really had to hit the boonies before they could get a private place of their own.  
  
And it was a _very_ private place. To me, mostly. Phage had soaked the material of the building in _something_ that really did a number on bugs. There was some kind of smell, or something, that would drive them away. I’d never noticed it myself, but unless I brought bugs in with me, they wouldn’t come in on their own.  
  
And since directing a thick swarm of bugs to crawl through the windows and vents every time I visited was just a _bit_ rude, I didn’t have a very good idea of just what the two of them did in there. Which, all things considered, was for the best. Imp, on the other hand, occasionally made leading comments about what she saw while poking around that I desperately tried not to think too hard on the meaning of.  
  
Atlas landed in the fenced off back yard. We were shielded from view by the thick, tall evergreens that surrounded the place. It was more or less immune to causal observation, which explained _why_ the two of them had got this place.  
  
There was a single light burning in one window of the house. Otherwise, there wasn’t a single sign of life. It would be _really_ embarrassing if the two of them had decided to go see a movie or something.  
  
I knocked on the back door, and kept my ears peeled for movement on the other side. I didn’t hear a single thing until the door swung open, revealing Starstruck.  
  
Revealing _way_ too much of Starstruck. I closed my eyes, sighing. Seriously, was it too much effort to put a robe on when she heard someone knocking on the door?  
  
“Oh! Hi, Skitter,” Starstruck said, sounding a bit surprised at seeing me there. And not at all embarrassed about not wearing a single bit of clothing when greeting someone at the door. “I didn’t think you were coming over tonight.”  
  
“Mm,” I answered, opening my eyes and keeping my gaze on Starstruck’s face. And the dog ears that were twitching amid her blonde hair. Damnit Phage. “I wanted to stock up on some bugs while we had the time.”  
  
“Oh,” Starstruck answered. She glanced over her shoulder and looked back, biting her lip. “Does it have to be _now_? We’re kind of in the middle of something.”  
  
“Yes, I gathered that,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and level as I could. “The two of you are _always_ in the middle of something, I had to fly for twenty minutes to get here and I. Want. To. Get. To. Bed. The two of you can throw on some clothes for the five minutes it will take.”  
  
Starstruck was far too old and powerful for that pouting look to look dignified on her. She spun on her heel, not bothering to touch the floor. She went deeper into the house. I sighed, watching her blonde dog tail slowly wag from side to side.  
  
I leaned against the door, rather then follow Starstruck. There were some things I didn’t want to see, and Phage naked was one of them. And I would be lucky if she would be _naked_.  
  
For a moment, I considered asking for some relationship advice, and round out the set. Parian and Foil, Dad and Mom and Phage and Starstruck. Then I realized how tired I must be if asking _those two_ sounded like a good idea.  
  
Instead, I called on the nearby bugs, drawing them to me. The houses around here were widely separated, with plenty of wet ground and plants for insects and spiders to live in. I drew in everything that I could, keeping the hornets and recluses on my body separate from them. Soon, the ground around me was crawling with bugs and the air was thick with them.  
  
Phage finally joined me, wearing a robe that was both offensively purple and far too generous in the cleavage department. She had a faint look of embarrassment on her face, which was more then could be said for Starstruck, who was floating behind her. And was _still_ naked.  
  
“Hello, Phage,” I said, as she joined me at the door. “Sorry to bother you,” and I _really_ , _really_ was by now, “but this should just take a minute.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” she grumbled, glaring peevishly at me. “Do you know what you interrupted?”  
  
“No, and I _don’t_ want to know,” I said as emphatically as I could. “I just need some more relays and Atlas needs a tune-up.”  
  
Atlas lumbered forward, and I drew some of the bugs into two circles above my outstretched hands. Sighing, and adjusting her robe, Phage reached out.  
  
It was always weird to feel my bugs getting combined together, the little lights of their lives winking off as a new light slowly grew. And, for that matter, the feeling when the new relay bugs came online was weird too, like a swiftly-fading pressure against my head. But it was well worth some discomfort.  
  
Well, now wasn’t time for another argument with her over how much more effective I could be with more of her creations. And we had a lot of arguments over what I could do. But Phage was sticking firm to her lines. She had made Atlas and the relay bugs in a moment of desperate need, and unless the situation ever got that bad again, that was _all_ she was going to be creating.  
  
I glanced over her shoulder at Starstruck. All she would be creating insect-wise, at least. I’d be _quite_ happy to leave and let the two of them get back to whatever the two of them were doing.  
  
Atlas lumbered forward, leaning his head forward so that Phage could grab one of his horns. It was a much less unsettling feeling to feel her working over Atlas then on the bugs. Because she was just healing the fractures in his skeletons, endo- and exo-, and similar repair work instead of creating.  
  
After she was done, I had Atlas lumber back. I sent him off to the side of the house, a good chunk of the remaining swarm following after him. Atlas always had quite the appetite after getting his energy reserves drained to heal himself. Most of the neighborhood’s insect population was about to get eaten by him.  
  
And, oddly enough, they really _would_ be eaten by him. I puppeted most of Atlas’s actions, but he had a few built-in instincts of his own. Mostly revolving around feeding if food was put in front of him (and it was, right now) and how to fly. One less thing for me to worry about.  
  
“Is there anything else?” Phage asked, stepping back and pressing herself against Starstruck. “Because I was _really_ in the middle of something when you knocked. Starstruck isn’t going to learn to be a good girl all on her own, you know.”  
  
I closed my eyes and sighed. It was times like this when I remembered why I was so glad that the two of them kept to themselves so much. Ever since they went off on their own, they just couldn’t keep it in their pants.  
  
“No, that’s _more_ then enough,” I said, stepping back onto the grass of the back yard. “I’ll be seeing the two of you later.”  
  
“That’s fine by me,” Phage said, turning around and laying a hand on Starstruck’s shoulder, pressing the taller girl down. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go teach a disobedient dog a lesson.”  
  
The worst part was how happy Starstruck looked about that as she got on all fours right next to Phage. It wasn’t a sight I had to look at for long, as I turned away towards Atlas and Phage shut the door. I did my best not to hear anything coming through the door as I climbed onto Atlas.  
  
Man, the next time I saw those two, I hoped it was in costume. And the two of them had _good_ costumes. Just as good as their old ones, in my opinion. Of course, they _had_ gotten Parian to design them.  
  
The matching black and white uniforms did make them stand out, assuming that anyone ever got to see them. The two of them really were secretive, in yet another change from how they had been. We included them whenever the Undersiders were planning something, but that was because Phage was even more bitchy than normal if we showed up on her doorstep bleeding all over the lawn.  
  
Lumbering forward, Atlas’s wings started to beat. Before we were across half of the yard, he was lifting off, his multiple wings straining against the air. It was wonderful to feel how healthy and full of energy he was now, more then able to do anything I told him to try.  
  
The wind once more flowing through my hair, we turned east, flying back into Brockton Bay. There were fewer cars on the roads by now, and almost no people. It _was_ almost midnight, after all. Still plenty of lights in a mile-thick band surrounding the portal, though. That was the part of the city that never slept.  
  
I urged Atlas down to follow a freight train that was heading away from the portal, thundering along the new tracks that had been laid. For a minute, I made a game of trying to match its speed as it headed north. Then I drew off, heading back for home.  
  
My lair, at least. I wasn’t entirely certain where _home_ was, these days. But at least I knew where I could find some warm sheets and a soft pillow.  
  
Landing on top of the roof, I stumbled off Atlas. I was starting to feel _really_ tired, and I was glad beyond words that nothing had happened that I needed to take care of. There was going to be enough shit happening over the next few days, I didn’t need my nights to be filled with it as well.  
  
Atlas went into his paddock as I went down the stairs into the building. I didn’t go any further then the third floor, and I was already stripping out of my costume as I went. I _could_ , technically, sleep in my Skitter outfit, but _man_ , I would regret it when I woke up.  
  
I hopped on one foot as I tugged the bodysuit off, and hung it up. I had to pause halfway through for a _tremendous_ yawn. Fatigue was starting to beat me over the head with a hammer. It was far too much effort to change into pajamas. Just my tight t-shirt and shorts were going to be enough for me tonight.  
  
Just as I was about to crawl into bed, I stopped, staring down at it. It was still rumpled and messy from Missy. Man, had that only been a few hours ago? It felt far longer then that. I smiled. We had really done a number with each other, hadn’t we? The safeword, the second kiss, and that wasn’t all Missy was doing.  
  
And after my talks, that wasn’t even everything I wanted from her, either. And I had a suspicion that Missy might see things the same way. We were going to have to have a proper talk.  
  
I was looking forward to it.  


*******

Hannah sighed as she ran her hands over her face. It really was a good thing she needed to sleep so rarely. She would be a complete and utter wreck otherwise. And she had thought she had a lot of paperwork to handle when _Armsmaster_ was in charge!  
  
Maybe it was time for a break. Or at least move onto another piece of work. Hannah pulled over the deployment lists. Sure, there was an official meeting to hammer this sort of thing out tomorrow, but she should still show up prepared.  
  
Hannah tapped her pen against the desk top as she thought, staring down at the blank form. Vista and Clockblocker on one team, probably with Snowglare. Toggle had been riding high for the past few days, which probably meant she was in for a depressive episode. Put her with one of the secondary or reserve teams so that if she had to be pulled off, there wasn’t too large a hole left in the lineup.  
  
Hannah continued down the list, tentatively assigning the superheroes under her command. After a while, she sat back with a sigh of relief. That, at least, was done. When the meeting tomorrow came to figure out force deployments, she should have something to show to the uniforms.  
  
And just a few more stacks of paperwork to do before she could go off duty. Hannah pulled the next one off the top and let her eyes skim over the memo on terminology guidelines, while her real thoughts were miles away.  
  
Vista. Hannah was starting to worry about both her youngest Ward, and the one with the most experience. On the surface, everything seemed fine. Vista was going above and beyond the call of duty (and safety, here in Brockton Bay), and was probably due for a commendation.  
  
But… Vista had come to her and Deputy Director Renick about a month ago. She had gotten some ridiculous, near-suicidal notion to go infiltrate a party Skitter was having. And then, much more worrisome, she had come face to face with Skitter. The supervillain apparently hadn’t recognized her, and the two of them had chatted for a while.  
  
And Vista had left the party with an offer to come back and work as Skitter’s maid. Hannah still couldn’t believe that had happened. That Vista had been uncharacteristically stupid enough to try the stunt in the first place, or that Skitter had been taken with her.  
  
Vista had pushed and pushed for another meeting, and, finally, Hannah and Renick had signed off on it. Under severe terms and conditions, and with Miss Militia and Crucible standing by, not that Vista had been told that. And nothing had seemed to happen.  
  
And after _that_ , both Hannah and the Director had called it off. They both felt they were running far too high of a risk, especially with a girl as young as Vista. Especially since the Undersiders had gotten a data dump of the Protectorate computer systems a year or so ago. There hadn’t been any pictures of Vista in it, but there had been her name, and Vista had confirmed that she had blurted out her civilian name to Skitter.  
  
Skitter hadn’t recognized it, according to Vista. But, especially with _no_ information gained from the second attempt, it had just been too much of a risk for nothing in return. There weren’t going to be any more undercover trips to Skitter’s headquarters.  
  
And Vista had acted like she had accepted it. She had nodded in appropriate levels of seriousness, and said she wouldn’t do it anymore. And yet…  
  
Hannah wasn’t sure _why_ she was still so worried about Vista. But something kept on niggling at her, even as Vista started doing even better then she had in patrols and missions. Hannah thought that maybe she should call Vista up for an interview, to see if Vista thought anything was wrong.  
  
Later, though, Hannah realized, glancing at a clock. It was _very_ late, and Vista would be quite surly if she was dragged out of bed at this hour. And not in the next few days, either. They were both going to be far too busy to address something as insubstantial as a _feeling_ Hannah had that something was wrong with her.  
  
Sighing, Hannah stood up and tugged her flag-patterned bandanna over her face. She headed towards the door of her office. She had too much on her mind, and she had reviewed enough of the endless paperwork for now. She needed to go and stretch her legs, and get some air that hadn’t been endlessly filtered and recycled.  
  
Almost as soon as she stepped outside, Hannah bumped into Toggle. The young woman squeaked and jumped backwards, hitting the corridor wall behind her. Miss Militia was a bit surprised herself.  
  
“Toggle? What on earth are you still doing up at this hour? Your shift ended four hours ago, didn’t it?”  
  
Miss Militia looked the young Ward up and down. Toggle was in her full costume, her open-faced helmet with thick goggles over her eyes firmly in place. Her thick baton, glimmering in the same, slowly-shifting colors of her armor hanging at her side. There wasn’t any trace of her duplicates, though, just her.  
  
“Yes, Miss Militia,” Toggle squeaked. “But I just couldn’t sleep, you know? I mean, of course _you_ know, but there was just so _much_ going on that I couldn’t just go to sleep.”  
  
“I see,” Miss Militia said, staring down at Toggle. And not very far down, either. For fourteen, Toggle was pretty tall. Certainly taller than the other fourteen year old on the team. She was considerably bulkier then Vista as well, though a lot of that was the layered armor she wore. “I understand the feeling. Would you like to take a walk with me?”  
  
“Sure thing!” Toggle said brightly. “Where do you want to go?”  
  
“How about the upper lounge?” Miss Militia said, planting a hand on Toggle’s armored back and lightly pushing her forward. “It should be empty this time of night.”  
  
It was indeed deserted. Nothing but some spills and stains that the cleaners hadn’t gotten to yet. But that meant there wasn’t any competition for the window seats, looking out over the bay.  
  
Miss Militia paused for a moment before sitting down. She looked out the window, at the wide, dark stretch of water, with only a few lights scattered along it. Even after all these years, her eyes still sought out the long-gone Protectorate HQ. And from this window, she also couldn’t see the portal, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow. She sighed softly, making the material of her bandanna puff out.  
  
“Is something wrong?” Toggle asked, her feet swinging back and forth and her boots rapping against the table legs.  
  
“Not at all,” Miss Militia said, joining Toggle. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?”  
  
“No, I’m just feeling… on edge, you know?” Toggle glanced to the side, the circles of light shifting to a darker pink. Miss Militia reminded herself that there wasn’t any correlation between Toggle’s lights and what she was feeling, no matter what her gut said. “I mean, I’m _always_ feeling on edge when I’m like this, but there’s such a big _problem_ looming over everything. There’s a dozen things I know I should be doing, but I just can’t focus on _one_ to do.”  
  
Miss Militia’s thoughts flashed back to the paperwork waiting for her. Shoving that to one side, she leaned forward, looking into Toggle’s eyes through her tinted goggles. Toggle more or less looked back at her, the younger girl’s eyes bouncing off of everything in view.  
  
“The most important thing is to keep up on your sleep and your meals, I’ve found,” Miss Militia said. “You’ll fight far better with a full stomach and a rested mind then you will if you exhaust yourself training.”  
  
“I know _that_ ,” Toggle said, sounding _quite_ like a teenager. “But I can’t _get_ to sleep. So I decided to go walk around and see if there was anything happening. It’s better then just staring at the ceiling. And so I met you!” She flashed Miss Militia a wide smile.  
  
“I know how it feels,” Miss Militia said. She hesitated for a moment. “Is your medication interfering with your ability to get to sleep?”  
  
Toggle made a face, looking off to the side. Her fingers started drumming on the table. After a few seconds, she looked back at the older woman.  
  
“No, I had to quit last week. I couldn’t keep anything down. We’re looking into something new.”  
  
Miss Militia nodded. She reached out and took Toggle’s hand, stilling the drumming of her plastic gauntlet against the tabletop.  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Toggle,” Miss Militia said, “I hope the next set of pills works better.”  
  
“Yeah, no kidding,” Toggle said, looking out over the bay. “Still,” she said brightening and turning back to Miss Militia, “it will have to wait until we beat these baddies! Then I’ll have plenty of time to figure out what works!”  
  
Miss Militia nodded. Toggle and her doctors (her family’s physician at first, and now the Protectorate’s medical staff now) had been trying to find a good medication regime for years, and ideally one that let her still be a Ward. They hadn’t succeeded yet. Still, if Toggle was optimistic about her chances, that was completely her right.  
  
“So where am I going to be?” Toggle asked, changing the topic with all the grace of a drunken elephant. “I mean, where am I going be with everyone once the fighting starts? You can tell me, right?”  
  
Underneath her bandanna, Miss Militia bit her lip. Somehow, it was so much easier to put Toggle far away and out of action when she was filling out a list, then when she was actually face to face with the young teen. On the other hand, Miss Militia liked to think she was long past the age where sad puppy eyes would work on her.  
  
“We haven’t decided anything yet, but right now, my plan is to put you with the team on Sycamore and Eleventh. Of course, nothing has been put in stone yet.”  
  
“Sycamore?” Toggle asked, sounding extremely hurt. “But that’s all the way in the center of the city! Everyone else is going to be along Highway 77 and I-95, won’t they? You’re just shoving me off, aren’t you?”  
  
“Of course not,” Miss Militia responded. “You’ll be with a team of several vans of troopers and Crucible. If anything happens and the rest of the teams need help, we’ll be sending you right there.”  
  
“It’s because I’m only fourteen, isn’t it?” Toggle said, standing up and knocking her chair back. Her mace clattered against the table edge. “But I bet Vista is right out there on the front lines, right? I’m just as good as her! I mean, can’t I deploy _with_ her? We did great at the safe house, didn’t we? We’d work great together!”  
  
Toggle’s words were coming closer and closer together as she stared at Miss Militia. Miss Militia stared back at her, easily keeping her calm.  
  
“Yes, the two of you did a great job against the Undersiders,” Miss Militia said. “But Clockblocker and Vista work well together as well. And we obviously need some capes with the reserve team, so that it can actually _help_ when it arrives.”  
  
“You’re putting me with Crucible,” Toggle said, her voice starting to become ragged with emotion. “You don’t trust me, so you’re putting me at the back with the Wards captain. And we all know that the Undersiders will be helping out, so there isn’t going to be any use for the reserves.”  
  
Toggle leaned forward, clasping her hands together. The circles on her armor had shifted to a bright yellow-green.  
  
“ _Please_ , Miss Militia,” Toggle said. “That fight in the apartment was the biggest thing I’ve done while I’ve been a cape. And everyone else has all these stories about the good fights they’ve been in, how they _helped_ people. I want to be part of that. That’s why I _joined_ the Wards. _Please_ let me be part of this.”  
  
“Do you know what you’re asking for, Toggle?” Miss Militia said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “This isn’t going to be you and Vista against some unpowered gang members. You’ll be fighting some truly evil people, capes who were tough enough to fight Legend and Ursa. And they’ll have backup, men and women who won’t hesitate to try and _kill_ you. Are you _really_ sure that’s something you want to be in the middle of?”  
  
Toggle hesitated for a second. Then her jaw firmed, the lights on her armor dancing on her pale skin. She nodded, just once.  
  
“Yes, I do, ma’am,” Toggle said. “I want to actually _do_ something besides just looking pretty for photo-ops. That’s why I have _this_ , isn’t it?” She tapped the mace hanging at her side, a brief spark of light appearing between her gloved fingers and the thick baton.  
  
“I suppose it might be possible to rearrange the placements,” Miss Militia said slowly, not certain if she was making the right choice or doing it for the right reasons. “If the Director and Crucible agree, then you and Vista might deploy together.”  
  
“Thank you,” Toggle said, her mood instantly lightning. “Thank you so much, Miss Militia. You aren’t going to regret this.” She grabbed Miss Militia’s hand and shook it, hard enough that the Kurdish woman had to massage it after getting her hand back. “I’m, I’m going to go practice some more. I won’t let everyone down.”  
  
Toggle turned to leave. Miss Militia barely stopped her in time from heading for the door.  
  
“Yes, I’m certain you’ll do your best,” Miss Militia said, letting go of Toggle’s shoulder. “But there’ll be plenty of time to practice _tomorrow_. Right now, go to bed. Hit up the pharmacy and get some sleeping pills if you don’t think you can manage it on your own, okay?”  
  
Miss Militia leaned forward a bit to stare into Toggle’s eyes, willing her to listen. It could be hard to get Toggle to listen sometimes. And other times, she listened _much_ too well. At least there weren’t any bad characters in the Wards to drag her in the wrong way.  
  
Thankfully, there was nothing in Toggle’s eyes but eagerness and surprise. After a second’s hesitation to understand what Miss Militia was saying, she quickly nodded, her head bobbing up and down.  
  
“Sure thing, boss,” Toggle said. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, okay?”  
  
“Yes, that sounds good,” Miss Militia said, letting go of Toggle’s shoulder. She stifled a sigh as she watched Toggle’s bulky form retreating from her. She hoped that she had just made the right choice.  
  
Miss Militia sat down on the table she and Toggle had been sitting around. She looked out over the dark waters of the Bay, and at the string of lights on the other side. The city looked so bright, so beautiful, so artificial from this high up at night. It wasn’t the place she loved the most, but she still wanted to protect it. And protect the people in it. Her lips twitched upward in a brief smile. And even protect its protectors.  
  
Sighing, Miss Militia stood up, her hands running over her uniform to make certain that everything was right were it should be. Satisfied, she started back towards her office. There was plenty more work to do before the daily meetings started.  
  
The life of a hero wasn’t an easy one, but it was still one she loved.  


***Non-canon Omake: The Tables Turned***

  
I took a long sip from the cup of tea my maid had brought me. And did my best to not wince at the bitter taste. How could she stand to drink this stuff so often?  
  
Well, I had an idea on how to fix that. I’d need to get her used to another, _better_ taste on her tongue instead of nasty, bitter tea. A kind of _juice_.  
  
Yeah, that was it. I nodded to myself, getting myself ready for this. It was _so_ embarrassing, but the thought of doing it was _so_ hot. I just needed to tell her to get over here and do another one of her duties. Simple. Nothing to it.  
  
I still wasn’t saying anything, and she was glancing up at me while neatly stacking the books. ( _Her_ books, because I didn’t have time to read, and we both thought some hardcover books added something to the elegance of the room.) Was this any way for me to act?  
  
I cleared my throat and looked up at Taylor. She was looking back at me, looking _great_ in her maid uniform. The sight of those long, stockinged legs made me lose my train of thought for a moment.  
  
“Taylor,” I said as steadily as I could. “Do you know what you’ve done?”  
  
It was kind of cute how Taylor’s eyes ran over everything in the room, trying to figure out what I was talking about. No, it was _very_ cute, mostly because it was Taylor doing it.  
  
“No, ma’am?” She said, in a cute tone of confusion.  
  
“You’ve,” I said, grabbing my dress and lifting it up. It seemed to be caught on something. I gave it another yank. “Made a terrible messssss…”  
  
Both of us looked down at my ripped dress. I had _just_ bought this thing last month. And now there was a ragged tear from the bottom hem almost up to my upper thigh.  
  
“I… didn’t do that, ma’am,” Taylor said, walking over and bending down to pick up the fragment of dress that was still stuck underneath the chair leg.  
  
I felt so embarrassed I was ready for the swift, merciful embrace of death. I kept on switching my gaze between the patterned scrap in Taylor’s hand and the huge amount of skin I was now baring. Yes, I had planned to show myself off to Taylor. And I would have been calm, cool and in control.  
  
“Are you saying _I_ did this?” I squeaked, trying to sound as haughty as I could. I didn’t.  
  
“Of _course_ not, ma’am,” Taylor said, patting my hand in a patronizing gesture. “I would _never_ say that you got bored and started rocking back and forth in the chair. I would never even _think_ that you sat up straight when I came in with the tea and didn’t notice that you had trapped your dress underneath the chair.”  
  
I was wishing for more then death now. _Retroactive oblivion_ was ideal right now. Something that would go back and ensure that this never happened and I would never have to remember a single detail of it was what I needed to happen right this moment. Something that would stop that smile Taylor was barely managing to conceal.  
  
“Good,” I squeaked, staring fixedly at Taylor’s chest, at the white apron over the black dress. “I’m- I’m glad that there’s no question about what happened.”  
  
“Yes,” Taylor said. I shot her a glare at how twisted the last breath sounded, but she looked back with a perfectly impassive face. So long as I didn’t look her in the eyes. “It’s just one of those freak accidents that just happen. Why,” Taylor brought a gloved hand to her face, “when I was bending over to put the DVD back in its case, I would have sworn that I felt someone groping my rear. But since you were _all_ the way over at the other end of the room, I know I must have been imagining it.”  
  
Somehow, my blush increased. She had felt that? Of _course_ she had felt that. I hadn’t been subtle, feeling up that runner’s rear. But she hadn’t _acknowledged_ it. She hadn’t even paused, just stood up and closed the cabinet door.  
  
I breathed in and out, trying to get myself to calm down. I was in control over this. I was the mistress, and Taylor was the maid. That was the things were. It wasn’t a big deal that I liked how Taylor looked in her maid uniform. It was _okay_ that I groped her, especially when she looked so cute. That was just the way things worked out. Nice and simple.  
  
I still didn’t want to look up at Taylor and see the look on her face. It would be _unbearably_ smug. And Taylor had a face that was naturally good at smug already.  
  
“Well, this dress is ruined,” I squeaked, speaking so quickly that my words tripped over each other in the rush to get out. “I’m going to need you to take care of it.”  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” Taylor said, lowering her face to look at it. Behind her glasses, her eyes were dancing with delight. “Should I call Parian to come over, or should I bring it to her?”  
  
“We can both go tomorrow,” I said, the humiliation receding as we talked about something else. “I want to see how your Skitter costume is coming along.”  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” Taylor repeated. “Do you think that I can actually be as intimidating and cool and sexy as Skitter is?”  
  
“Probably not,” I said. “You just don’t have the killer instinct to be as nasty as Skitter is.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering just how true that was. “But I’m sure you’ll look far better in it then she does. Especially with how tight that suit is going to be on you.”  
  
I felt a flicker of arousal inside of me. The silk suit really _would_ cling tightly to Taylor’s body. And the plastic armor plating wasn’t going to hide very much at all. It was going to be _so_ easy for me to run my hands all over my maid’s body.  
  
“Stand up, please, ma’am,” Taylor said, nudging me up.  
  
I did so, my face coming level with the bottom part of her chest. She was only a few years older then me, so how could she be so unfairly tall? And so unfairly cute?  
  
I was reminded again of how cute she was and how close to me she was as she got the torn dress off of me. I was left in only my panties. I shivered, and it wasn’t because the room was cold.  
  
Taylor was taking a _long_ time to fold the dress. She was spending a lot of it looking at me, staring down through her glasses at me. I pretended not to notice her.  
  
And why _shouldn’t_ she be staring at me? After all, I was Vista, the cute, badass star of the Wards. She was _lucky_ to be my maid. Of course she was going to take the chance to stare at the beautiful body of a superheroine.  
  
“Taylor, just _look_ at the mess you made,” I said, stepping back a bit and sitting back down in my chair. “My panties are _completely_ ruined because of your clumsiness. I hope you’re going to clean it up, right?”  
  
There. I had _finally_ gotten to the point I had wanted to arrive at when I had pulled my dress up.  
  
“Really?” Taylor asked, almost instantly going to her knees in front of me. That was a sight I could never get tired of. “Why, you’re right, ma’am,” Taylor said in a shock, ashamed voice. “You’re quite wet.” I gasped as her fingers ran along my crotch. “And it’s all because of me. I’m going to have to take care of this.”  
  
Taylor’s voice ended on a rather insincere note. She looked up at me, light gleaming off her glasses. Then her hands kept along my thighs, hooking her fingers through the sides of my panties.  
  
Taylor tugged them off, revealing my pussy. My almost _bare_ pussy. I hadn’t started growing much hair there, and what there was was as blonde as the rest of me.  
  
“My, I really did cause quite a mess, didn’t I?” Taylor said, glancing in between my crotch and my face. I felt my cheeks heat again as I stared back down at her. “I’m really going to have to work hard to clean all of this up.”  
  
“And the sooner you start-!” My voice cracked. “The sooner you start,” I tried again, “the sooner you’ll get done.”  
  
“I hope so, ma’am,” Taylor said, drawing her fingertips along my inner thighs. I shivered, feeling goosebumps rise in their wake. “This looks like quite the messy job. I’m going to have to do a _lot_ of work to clean it all up, aren’t I?”  
  
She was. She really, really was. I was _so_ turned on right now, it was difficult to put it into words. Looking at Taylor, on her knees, looking beyond cute in her maid uniform, I was so. Fucking. Horny.  
  
I reached out a hand and hesitated. Then I forced it forward, putting it on the top of Taylor’s head, pushing down the black and white headdress. Taylor smiled as she lowered her head, bringing it closer and closer to my pussy. I swallowed in anticipation.  
  
Taylor’s warm breath washed over my soaked folds. It felt wonderful. I wondered how wet she was herself. Not that she would get a chance to satisfy her own lewd, perverse desires. Not on _my_ watch!  
  
After all, Taylor was my maid, and her mind should be on the job. That meant that she should be focusing on what I told her, and nothing else. And to help with that, I had put a chastity belt on her.  
  
And man, she looked cute in a chastity belt. And absolutely nothing else, besides her pantyhose. The shy look she got on her face when that happened, fiddling her long, curly hair, it made my heart beat double time inside my chest.  
  
Although, honestly, Taylor looked cute wearing whatever. Well, almost whatever. I had graciously taken my maid shopping, looking for some clothes that showed her off more then the dull sacks she used to wear. But now, street clothes, maid uniform, nothing at all, Taylor looked _cute_. And I knew she was going to look cute when she dressed up as Skitter as well. Hopefully she could _act_ like Skitter, too. At least a bit.  
  
She could at least talk like Skitter. Her tongue could do all _sorts_ of things. That fact was brought back home to me as Taylor ran her tongue along my folds. It felt _wonderful_ , sending electric sensations up and down my spine. I gasped, my fingers digging into the arms of the chair, nails pressing against the fabric.  
  
And then Taylor did it again. I felt my breath catch in my throat. How was Taylor so good at eating me out? It wasn’t as if it was something that happened every day. Okay, yes, it was happening right now. And it had happened yesterday. And the day before that, too. But it _hadn’t_ happened three days ago.  
  
Of course, it hadn’t happened because I had been fighting the Undersiders and Taylor had been stuck in traffic. But it was still a time that she hadn’t eaten me out! That counted! So it was a complete and utter mystery how my maid had gotten so good at it.  
  
Not that I had _any_ reason to complain. However Taylor had gotten so skilled at this, her efforts were nothing short of _magical_. Her tongue running along my folds, sliding in between my lips, her fingers holding my thighs apart, there was so much going on down there.  
  
My small nipples were stiff, standing out from my barely-there breasts. I jerkily lifted one hand and ran my palm over them, feeling the stiff flesh digging into my skin. That felt wonderful too, though not nearly as good as what Taylor was doing to me.  
  
My gaze dropped down to her. She was working away at my pussy, slowly shaking her hips back and forth as she did so. From time to time, she looked up at me. Often, I would blush and look away, but sometimes I made myself meet her gaze as she kept on licking and sucking at me.  
  
The pleasure was rising higher and higher inside of me. It felt so good, better then anything else I had ever felt. There was so much of it, and Taylor kept on adding more, making me feel better and better as she licked and fingered me, her tongue, lips and fingers all working together.  
  
Maybe I was going to have to reward her after this. Reward her for cleaning up the mess she made. Because, as usual, it was her fault I was so turned on. Her body was so _erotic_ and her face was so cute. And she knew it too. The way she posed- the thought of Taylor leaning forward, her blouse falling away from her chest entered my mind. And that was enough to push me up over the edge.  
  
I groaned as I came, my fingers digging into the upholstery of the chair. My orgasm swung through me, leaving a wonderful, freeing sensation of pleasure behind it. My body shook, my hips grinding against Taylor’s mouth.  
  
I slumped down into the chair, panting. I looked down at Taylor, still between my legs. She looked up at me, her eyes dancing. I smiled at her, and, even with her mouth still pressed against me, I could tell that she smiled back.  
  
Taylor stood up, her tongue flicking out to lick at her lips. Both her lips, her cheeks and her chin were covered in my arousal. It was a _good_ look for her, one that made my heart pick the pace back up.  
  
“Will that be all, ma’am?” Taylor asked, picking the torn dress and the cold cup of tea back up.  
  
“Yes,” I said tiredly, slumping back in my chair. “Yes, thank you, Taylor.”  
  
“Not at all, ma’am,” she replied, smirking slightly. “I’ll just go and take care of these, then. And I’ll fetch you another dress. Unless you _want_ to spend the rest of the day dressed like this?”  
  
The rest of the day naked. That was kind of a weird thought, even if Taylor and I were the only ones here, or who would be here. But there was also a certain kind of appeal. But it still needed something a bit more.  
  
“Only if you join me, Taylor,” I said sounding quite firm and not at all nervous at the idea she’d get offended.  
  
_Why_ she’d get offended now, after everything we’d done together, was a mystery. But there was still always that needling little feeling, that this time I was going to push too hard, say the wrong thing, and Taylor would-  
  
Leave me, maybe. That would be _awful_. It was so _nice_ , having a… friend, yes, who knew I was a cape but wasn’t a super herself. I could talk with her, be with her… do a lot more things then talk and it was all nice.  
  
“I suppose we’ll have to see if I come back with two dresses or no dresses,” Taylor said, breaking into my train of thought.  
  
Taylor flashed me a smile that made my heart stop and then beat even faster. She turned and left, swaying in the short heels that came with the costume. I sank back into the chair, smiling wildly.  
  
I was so lucky to have a… maid like Taylor.


	11. Maid to Serve Ch. 7

**Maid to Serve Ch. 7**

  
  
It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. Fluffy white clouds slowly sailed across the blue sky, and the sun was beating down on me, keeping me warm up even up here on the rooftop. It was going to be quite the contrast between the wonderful weather and what was going to happen in the city today.  
  
I looked down from the rooftop at the PRT van below me, on the street. There were two officers standing outside it, on either side of the closed rear doors. It would only take them a few seconds to get in if we were called out, and I supposed they were reassuring to anybody looking out their windows.  
  
“See anything?”  
  
I glanced over at Toggle. She was staring up at the clouds, leaning against an A/C unit. She was idly swinging her mace in one hand, twirling it in long loops, leaving a colorful trail behind her.  
  
“No. You?”  
  
“Well, that cloud looks a bit like an elephant if you squint and cover one eye,” Toggle said, pointing upwards.  
  
“Toggle,” I said, my voice flat. “ _Focus_.”  
  
“On _what_?” Toggle asked, lowering her head to look at me. “There’s nothing to do up here. When the KKK get into town, we’ll hear about it from dispatch. They aren’t suddenly going to pop up at the end of the street.”  
  
If they _did_ , they would certainly be pretty noticeable. The streets were dead here, barely anybody on them. The mayor hadn’t made a statement or anything, to keep people from panicking, according to a rumor I had heard. But word had gotten out anyway. Most people were staying indoors, at least here, on the western part of the city.  
  
I looked around the sea of rooftops. From here, I could see the elevated section of I-95, and all the cars crawling along it. That at least was as busy as it ever was. Which meant that it would be harder to see the N.A.B. vehicles before they got into town.  
  
And it wasn’t much of a guess as to what part of town they were coming into, either. This neighborhood was right off the first off-ramp into the city, and it was mostly populated by Asians. It was as clear as the nose on my face that the Brotherhood would be coming here to spread their own unique message of love and tolerance.  
  
That was why Toggle and I, and the PRT truck, were here, on the street that transformed into the off-ramp in half a mile. We certainly wouldn’t be able to stop the entire Brotherhood, but we could certainly delay them long enough for reinforcements to arrive. And if it was just a car or two of thugs who didn’t want to wait to find housing, we would just as certainly be able to arrest all of them.  
  
I walked over to the other end of the roof, looking down at the alleyway behind the building. Nothing there, beyond some leaking, overfilled dumpsters. I sighed and started back to Toggle. My hand slid down to my belt, playing with all the various stuff I had clipped to it, or stuffed inside pouches. My baton, a phone, a very small first aid-kit. And the ladybug box Skitter had given to me.  
_  
That _ was hidden inside a pouch, where it would hopefully only get crushed if I _needed_ it to get broken. I didn’t like the idea of calling on Skitter to come rescue poor little me, but I liked the idea of bleeding out because I bit off more than I could chew even less.  
  
I shook my head, doing my best to banish those thoughts. The fighting hadn’t even started yet, and I was already wondering if I would be setting a new record for how badly I might get hurt. This waiting could be tough on the nerves.  
  
Especially because I didn’t know if anything was even going to happen. It was quite possible that the N.A.B. would come into town and keep on going, heading for some safe houses. I _knew_ there was going to be a bunch of local support for them. The E88 had disintegrated, their leaders and capes getting chased out, killed or arrested. The rank and file Neo-Nazis were still around. Hell, a bunch of them had let their hair grow out and gotten jobs with the Undersiders and their subordinate gangs. If the N.A.B. reached out, I was sure a bunch of them would go right back to being racist criminals instead of just criminals.  
  
And it wasn’t just going to be the cast-offs from the Empire that would be helping them. The true-blue patriots, the League of American Pride, they’d _love_ to see another group of white fuck-wits come in to do all the things they _swore_ they hated but loved watching. And unlike the Empire, nothing had been done about them. They just talked, all kinds of stuff about the need to preserve American heritage and if immigrants really understood American values. Not the kind of stuff superheroes were any good at dealing with.  
  
We’d deal with the National Brotherhood, I was confident of that. But that would still leave- no, they weren’t Kaiser’s lapdogs anymore. Funny how a joke could stick around in the mind years after it stopped making sense. It would still leave the League talking about how it was a shame some skinhead had stabbed a black guy, but, you know, the victim had jaywalked so was he _really_ all that innocent?  
  
“Dispatch to Toggle, Vista, Patrol Thirteen,” the PRT dispatcher’s voice crackled in my ear. “Possible 10-99 on Sycamore, between Mathews and Nunes. Investigate and confirm.”  
  
“Roger, Dispatch,” I said, switching my mic on. “Toggle and Vista proceeding on foot.”  
  
I missed hearing Clockblocker’s or Sere’s voice in my ear. But all the Wards and the Protectorate were out today, with nobody left to watch over the console. So we were all getting to listen to the sweet, dulcet tones of a woman who sounded like she smoked a pack of cigs a day.  
  
Now, let’s see. Sycamore was six streets to the north, with Mathews and Nunes to the east a bit. So that would mean I would…  
  
I frowned a bit underneath my visor, drawing on my power to reach out and grab a spot on a tall building four streets away. I was distantly aware, underneath my feet, of the PRT troopers climbing into the van and it turning the corner. They may be in a vehicle, and Toggle and I may be on foot, but we were going to get there long before they did.  
  
Toggle thankfully stayed silent as I firmed up the compression between us and my target building. It needed a bit more work to make sure it was safe to walk along a compression like that than it was just to make a distortion to send an attack flying off into the distance. Especially when Toggle and I would be fifty feet above the ground. That was the kind of incentive that made me want to make certain I wasn’t making a mistake.  
  
And it still took far less than a minute to do. It looked like the brown and red building I had selected was right in front of us, the roof of it level with ours, even though it was three stories taller. Looking down, the only sign that there was something different was the band of squished together colors from the intervening streets and buildings, not even an inch across.  
  
Toggle hopped across to the next roof, and I followed her, letting the compression harmlessly collapse behind us. We both hurried to the far edge, Toggle adjusting her grip on her mace. The blood was starting to beat in my ears, as I got ready for a fight. A possible 10-99, that could mean a lot of things. Nothing too bad, at least. Not yet, anyways.  
  
“What do you think, Vista?” Toggle asked, standing on the very edge of the rooftop and leaning forward. “Think it’s the Brotherhood?”  
  
“Maybe,” I said, reaching forward and tugging her back a bit. “Could just be some _really_ stupid local.”  
  
“Maybe its not even a criminal at all,” Toggle suggested, a hazy outline of her appearing over her shoulder for a minute before vanishing. “I once responded to a 10-99 that was just a cat not wanting to be left outside. Neighbors thought it was a screaming kid.”  
  
I snorted and nodded. Somehow, I didn’t think we were going to be that lucky today. I couldn’t see anything from the far edge of the building, at least any signs of an assault with parahuman powers happening. But I could see a nice flat rooftop that was right over Sycamore. That would do nicely.  
  
I reached out once again, my power making the gap between the buildings into something so tiny you had to squint to see it. Toggle and I quickly crossed over onto the next building. From here, we could hear some muffled impacts, like something heavy hitting something solid.  
  
The both of us ran to the roof edge, looking over it. And sure enough, there was some business for superheroes below.  
  
People were pouring out of the shops and stores that lined the block. Some of them were running down the sidewalk, others were ducking into the alleys. And who could blame them?  
  
I winced as a car went through the sheet glass window of a restaurant across the street from us. Not driven, but tossed. It flipped end over end, before crashing through the window and taking out part of the wall. A plume of dust billowed up from it, pulverized brick rising into the air.  
  
It had been tossed by two masked men, wearing matching red and blue outfits. A lot more brightly colored than most villains, but what they had just done pretty much confirmed that they weren’t a pair out-of-city superheroes coming in to help us. And then, as I watched, one of the men disappeared, making the second twitch a bit.  
  
“Let’s get him,” Toggle said, standing up and holding her mace in front of her in an aggressive position.  
  
“Not yet,” I hissed. Then I realized she wasn’t looking at the same pair I was.  
  
Toggle was staring at another half a block down the road. He was an exact duplicate of the one below us, and was holding an Asian woman up in the air by her neck. She was frantically struggling, trying to knee him in the face. And even though she got a few good hits in, it didn’t do anything.  
  
“Shit,” I said, underneath my breath.  
  
If it had just been property damage, I would have been willing to wait and watch, to see if this guy had any allies, and for the PRT van to get here. But if he was willing to flat-out kill someone, I _had_ to act. It may not have been the smartest thing to do, but it was the _right_ thing.  
  
I straightened up, and cracked my knuckles. I glanced at Toggle, who was staring down at the strangler, disgust and anger written all over her body. I didn’t even need to ask if she was ready for this. I just created a path from the roof down to the cape and his victim.  
  
“Let’s go, Toggle,” I said, stepping onto the path of compressed space.  
  
In a single step, we were down on the sidewalk, facing the back of the cape. I recognized him from the briefings I had sat through once we learned the N.A.B. would be coming here. Brigade.  
  
A former hero, which explained his bright costume. His power was that he could split into duplicates, up to six at a time. And each duplicate would be stronger or smarter. Of course, they would also be dumber or weaker, so he rarely split into too many copies at a time.  
  
“Hey, asshole,” I said, calling out loud enough to be heard over the car alarms and the receding screaming. “Let her go and get down on your knees.”  
  
Brigade glanced over his shoulder at us. From here, I could see all the tears and ground-in stains on his costume. And the bottom half of his face, all I could see underneath the cowl he wore, wasn’t any better. Unshaven, with badly chapped lips.  
  
“Who the hell are you?” Brigade asked, throwing the woman down to the ground. She twitched a bit, so at least she wasn’t dead yet. “The fucks in this city only have two little girls to send after me?”  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other duplicate turn around and start towards us. His fists were clenched, but he was taking the time to _swagger_ towards us. Well, if he were willing to be that dumb, I’d be happy to oblige him.  
  
“It’s a pity there’s only two of you,” Brigade said. “I’m going have to eat a copy just so I can have the both of you.”  
  
My lip curled, baring my teeth. I fished my green and white baton out of my belt, flicking the button that made it extend to its full length. Toggle was already swinging her mace around in lazy circles, all three fuzzy silhouettes appearing behind her. She glanced at the other Brigade from time to time.  
  
“Last chance,” I growled, spreading my legs into a better stance. “Stand down or we’ll _make_ you stand down.”  
  
Brigade’s face contorted into a sneer as he dashed forward, straight towards me. I stepped to the side, calling on my power to make him miss by a mile. Over his shoulder, I could see the other Brigade break into a run.  
  
Toggle came in swinging, her mace flashing, leaving behind a trail of multi-colored lights as she swung her mace in from the side. One of her silhouettes disappeared, adding more power to the blow. I didn’t have time to add anything to the blow, but Brigade was still a bit off balance.  
  
He turned around just in time to catch the mace blow in his side. He grunted, getting forced back a few feet. But I thought the padding in his costume and his general Brute toughness would have stopped that from hurting nearly as much as it should have.  
  
“Fucking little whore,” Brigade growled, grabbing at Toggle. She easily stepped out of the way, a third silhouette reappearing. “You think you can treat me like that and get away with it?”  
  
“Don’t worry about hitting him too hard,” I said, glancing at Toggle and at the Brigade down the street. “So long as he’s still got one copy left, he’ll be fine.” Toggle nodded, adjusting her grip on the mace slightly.  
  
“I’ll be a hell of a lot better than you,” Brigade growled, his body flickering a bit as another copy of him split off. It was weird to watch, like he was stepping out of himself. “Maybe if you get down on your knees and give me a kiss, I’ll only hurt your friend.”  
  
There was only one real response to that. I lashed out with my baton, aiming for the new Brigade. I stretched out space on his left, cutting off his only direction to dodge in. I could see Toggle going for the other, a second or so behind me.  
  
I wasn’t able to help Toggle, but we still both hit our marks. Toggle a lot more so than I did, in fact. Her mace caught Brigade right in the face, as she burned up all three silhouettes in a display of multi-colored lights.  
  
That Brigade went rocketing back, hitting the store wall behind him. It was obvious that he was dead, even before he disappeared into a haze of blue and red lights, that flowed into the Brigade I had hit.  
  
And not hit very hard, either. My baton had gone whistling towards his arm, but he had managed to twist out of the way and I only landed a glancing hit. He barely even seemed to notice it, and took a step towards me, his fist coming right for my face.  
  
I rolled to the side, tucking my feet underneath me in a somersault. I came back up and twisted around, getting a firmer grip on my baton. Off in the distance, I could see the Brigade running towards us splitting off into two more copies, all three of them staggering slightly as they formed. I frowned and tripled the length of the street they had to run down to get to us. That should buy us enough time. Toggle and the remaining Brigade next to us were squaring off, Toggle carefully stepping over the body of the woman he had been strangling.  
  
Behind me, I could hear the squealing of tires on pavement. I glanced back, taking maybe half a second to confirm that it was the PRT van, finally arriving on the scene. Reinforcements for us, not for him. Good. There was no way Brigade was a strong enough Brute to get out of the containment foam the van had mounted as a roof weapon.  
  
I took a long step towards the Brigade Toggle was fighting, using my power to shorten the distance. He snarled as he punched at Toggle, one of her silhouettes coming in to block the blow. It vanished in a flurry of lights, and Toggle followed up with a swing of her own.  
  
Brigade started backing up, moving back towards the other copies of himself. Toggle and I pressed the attack. Behind me, I could hear the PRT van squealing to a halt, and the shouts of troopers as they dismounted.  
  
The Brigades coming towards us stopped. They stopped to talk for a minute. Then two more of them kept on coming towards us, running all out. The third turned around and headed for a nearby alley. I didn’t have time to track him as the Brigade Toggle and I were fighting swing for me, making me back up a step.  
  
Toggle grunted as she put all of her strength into a blow, swinging at Brigade’s midsection. He dodged, barely, falling to the side as he scrambled out of the way. I noticed there weren’t any more cute little remarks or threats.  
  
I lashed out with my own baton, catching him on his exposed chin. He grunted, but didn’t do anything more than that. His head barely snapped back. Damn it, with four copies out, he was getting beyond what I could do anything to on my own. Well, it wasn’t as if I was going to stop fighting and let Toggle do all the work on her own.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a jet of bright blue containment foam squirting in an arc towards the two remaining Brigades. They dodged, and the turret operator tracked one of them, chasing him behind a mailbox. The box quickly grew a heavy layer of slick blue foam.  
  
Brigade dodged out onto the street, right into the open. Toggle followed him, lifting her mace up over her shoulder, a slowly-fading stream of multi-colored lights trailing behind her. I joined in. My baton may not have been able to do a lot, but maybe it could trip him up or something.  
  
Brigade’s reaction when he saw the line of PRT troopers advancing towards him, grenade launchers and foam sprayers raised, would have been comical if I felt anything but disgust for the man. Instead, I just stretched out the space around him and tightened it up behind him, giving Toggle the perfect target.  
  
And she was glad to take it. She swung forward, catching Brigade right on the back. Her mace flashed with light, and she used up all three of her silhouettes, their outlines burning away in multi-colored flashes as she put everything she had into the blow.  
  
This Brigade vanished just like the first one she had hit, in a display that was kind of similar to her using her own outlines up. He staggered forward two paces, his body flaking apart into hundreds of red and blue crystals. And then he was gone like he had never even been there.  
  
“Good job,” I said, nodding at Toggle as I turned around. We weren’t done yet.  
  
It was a damn good thing I turned around, since I wouldn’t have seen the newspaper box come flying at us otherwise. I yelped, a pretty high-pitched sound, and grabbed Toggle, dragging her down with me. The box came flying just inches over our head, shedding newspapers as it went. It bounced on the street, throwing up sparks as it bounced and rolled to a stop.  
  
I snatched off the newspaper that had landed on my face, crumpling it up and throwing it to the ground. I tilted my head backwards, glaring at the asshole that had thrown that at me. Brigade, the one that had ducked behind the mailbox, was ripping the boxes off of their stands and hurling them at us. Some troopers had to dodge out of the way before a fresh burst of foam sent him behind cover again.  
  
Where was the second Brigade? I looked around as I climbed to my feet. There he was, kicking the door open to a store. Kicking it right off its hinges, in fact. Shit, there might still be people inside.  
  
“Toggle, follow me!” I shouted, getting to me feet and shortening the distance across the street into a foot of space.  
  
I leapt through the door, instantly dodging to the side. I didn’t even know if there was anything coming at me, that was just what hours and hours of training and drills had taught me. I could hear Toggle doing the same, going to the other side.  
  
I bounced off a rack of comic books, sending them to the floor and getting under foot as I ducked through an aisle. I kept my ears peeled, and could hear a noise from the back of the store, something heavy falling to the ground. I turned the corner and headed towards it.  
  
I rounded the corner to the checkout counter. The very first, and almost only thing I saw was a fist flying towards my face. I didn’t have time to duck or dodge or do anything but feel the blood freeze in my veins.  
  
Brigade hit me, his gloved fist clocking me right in the visor of my helmet. I fell to the floor, my feet flying out from under me. I gasped as all the air was driven out of my lungs by the impact. It _hurt_ , but I could tell that nothing was broken. Yet at least. And that probably meant that the PRT had gotten the Brigade outside, so he was barely above normal human levels of strength by now.  
  
He could still hurt me. I managed to roll with the kick, a bit, but his booted foot still got me in the ribs. And the bastard was wearing steel-capped boots. I tried to stifle my scream, feeling my side light up in pain.  
  
“You fucking bitch, none of you can leave well enough alone, can you?” Brigade shouted at me, glancing over his shoulder at the shattered door.  
  
He stepped over me to get to the rear entrance. I scrabbled at my baton, though my fingers felt weak and clumsy. I didn’t want this bastard to get away. More than that one copy of his had already managed at least.  
  
But I wasn’t able to get up to my knees as he moved away from me. And the pain in my side was _really_ distracting. Shit, I hoped I hadn’t broken a rib again or anything. I did _not_ want to sit the rest of the war out just because I’d gotten banged up on the very first fight of the very first day.  
  
Toggle came to the rescue, bursting around a corner, sending prepackaged food flying to the floor as she swung her mace at Brigade. She caught him on the elbow, sending him spinning backwards, landing hard against the cabinet of cigarettes behind him.  
  
“Don’t you touch my friend,” Toggle shouted, her face hard underneath her goggles. “Don’t you dare,” she said, lifting her mace for another blow.  
  
Brigade tried to make it to the back of the shop, going for the curtain-covered doorway. He didn’t make it. Toggle’s mace made a perfect arc, leaving behind a slowly-fading trail of red and orange light. From my position on my knees, I couldn’t see where exactly she hit him. But I did hear the sound of him turning into those crystals.  
  
I slowly pulled myself up, knocking bags of chips off the rack as my gloved fingers dug into metal hoops of the shelving. I winced, my lips thinning into two pale lines. Wow, that really did hurt. I patted my side, my fingers knocking against the breastplate.  
  
“Vista?” Toggle asked, hopping over the counter. Her voice was very worried. “Are you okay?”  
  
I held up a hand as I took a deep breath. And then another. Okay, the pain didn’t get worse when I did that. It wasn’t broken, it just _hurt_.  
  
“Yeah, I’m good,” I said. I turned to face Toggle, smiling despite the pain. “And _wow_ , Toggle, you did a great job!” I reached forward and clapped her shoulder. “Damn girl, you got almost all of them all by yourself! That was awesome to watch.”  
  
“Ah, thanks, Vista,” Toggle said. I could _see_ the blush on her cheeks, even through my own green-tinted visor. “But I couldn’t have done it without you.” She licked her lips and took a half step closer to me, resting her own hand on my shoulder. “I couldn’t ever have gotten here if you hadn’t been working with me.”  
  
I smiled back at her, the rush from the fight slowly dying down inside of my body. I could feel myself start to get a bit _twitchy_ , my nerves jangling from the witch’s brew of chemicals that flooded my body during a fight. I breathed in and out, feeling the pain start to become more insistent. Damn, I was going to be chugging aspirin for the rest of the week, wasn’t I?  
  
“Toggle? Vista?”  
  
We both turned to look as a bulky, heavily armored PRT trooper appeared in the doorway. His black uniform appeared even darker than normal, with the light shining behind him. He held his grenade launcher loosely in his hands.  
  
“Yes?” I said, turning to face him.  
  
“What’s the situation in here?” He asked, her voice deep and rough.  
  
“Brigade’s down, thanks to Toggle,” I said, jerking my head back at her. “No civilian causalities or involvement.”  
  
Toggle and I started walking towards the trooper and the entrance, our feet kicking fallen bags to the side as we went. The trooper backed out of the door and stood to one side as we emerged into the clear sunlight. I blinked a bit behind my visor.  
  
“Good to hear,” he rumbled. “We’ve sprayed the other one, but the runner got away.” He hissed through his teeth. “No point in going after him, not after this long.”  
  
I nodded in agreement, twisting my head to look up and down the street. An ambulance was rounding the corner half a dozen blocks down, its lights flashing. Good. Hopefully that woman Brigade had been strangling could get the help she needed.  
  
I looked around for the Brigade the PRT had caught. I could see where he _should_ have been, a huge mound of foam close to where I had seen him before going into the store. But there weren’t any limbs sticking out of the pile, and he would have to been curled up pretty small to fit inside it. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Toggle looking over and frowning. Though on her, it was more of a pout.  
  
“Where’s the guy you got?” Toggle asked, gesturing with her mace.  
  
“Ugh,” the trooper, Corporal Wells, groaned. “Bastard disappeared a minute after he got sprayed. Must have realized that there was no getting out.” Well, it was a good thing he did. If he had stuck around the Brigade in the store could have done a lot more than bruising me.  
  
“So now what?” Toggle asked, looking down the street as people slowly reappeared. “We go and do a meet and greet?”  
  
“Quick report to the commanding officer first,” I said, shaking my head. “Fill her in on what happened. And by then, we’ll probably have a new fire to put out.”  
  
I knew what it was like when a gang tried to get a foothold in here. We’d be busting our butts to get to them before the local villains did. It made for some pretty tiring work. But it was still better than just sitting back and letting Skitter and the rest of them do our job.  
  
On that note, I wondered how Skitter was doing.

*******

**Content Warning: Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia and slurs thereof. If you don’t want to read this stuff, skip to the next set of stars *****  
  
Steven whistled to himself as he looked out the window of the old store. Behind him, he could hear the rest of the brothers setting up cots and stuff, and Stone Walls voice barking orders. He was lucky to be a lookout, instead of breaking his back emptying the truck. Today was looking up. All the gutless pukes here weren’t putting up a lick of resistance. Yeah, this was going to be _good_.  
  
Way better than New York City had been. That fag Legend with his sissy rainbows and his Slavic bitch Bunter had made an All-American city a breeding ground for the worst sort of globalist scum. Stone Wall and all the other brothers had done their best, but they just hadn’t been making any headway.  
  
And now that they were here in Brockton Bay? Steven knew they were going to _clean up_. The people here were all for them. They just needed to get the globalists out of here, and the Brotherhood would make this into a city for _real_ Americans.  
  
Steven scratched underneath his white ski mask. He couldn’t wait to get started. Especially since if it meant he could finally be of some real _use_ to the Brotherhood. In New York, a guy with just a crowbar wasn’t all that good, not against all of the so-called heroes. But here, Steven was sure that he’d be able to help, just like Brigade or Clarion Call. And he _needed_ to help out the Brotherhood.  
  
Stumbling into that chatroom had probably been the best accident to ever happen to Steven, he thought. He was were he _belonged_ now, with the Brotherhood. He was helping to make America the way it should be, with none of the foreign invaders outbreeding the true citizens of the country. He’d been looking for answers for _years_ , it had seemed like, trying to figure out whose fault it was that his two years of college weren’t getting him anywhere.  
  
And then Steven had had the truth explained to him. It had taken _months,_ and he’d lost most of his so-called friends as they refused to see the _truth_ about how the globalist elite were pulling the strings to get the hordes of so-called refugees into America to outbreed and conquer the last bastion of civilization. But it all made sense, as a whole bunch of guys in the Brotherhood and their friends had shown him all the proof, outlining how the white race was under threat.  
  
And Steven just couldn’t sit by and not do anything about it. He had joined up, and he loved what he was doing. Taking the fight to the so-called minorities (when they _actually_ outnumbered whites, checkmate, liberals!), it got his blood flowing way more than computer science ever had. Knowing that every fight he was in, whether it was against the Jew-controlled law enforcement, or just direct action against the vermin creeping in across the borders, Steven knew he was fighting the good fight.  
  
“Steven,” a calm, Southern voice said behind him. Steven jumped a bit, turning around. “Anything happening outside?”  
  
“No, boss,” Steven said, shaking his head and looking up at Stone Wall.  
  
Stone Wall grunted and stepped forward, joining Steven in looking out the window at the nearly empty street below. Steven stood a bit straighter, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the local Brotherhood boss. He glanced at Stone Wall out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Stone Wall was _big_ , really, really big. He had probably a hundred pounds on Steven, and it was all muscle. And his powers only made him stronger. And everyone else around him stronger, too. Steven _loved_ getting powered up by Stone Wall. The thrill of being able to punch through glass and not get hurt, it was _awesome_.  
  
“See this, Steven?” Stone Wall said, waving his hand at the street outside, taking in the few, old cars parked along it, and the graffitied walls. “This is what we’re fighting against. The internationalists and their lackeys would like to make everywhere like this, an urban hellhole of decay where the true sons of history are treated no better than the mongrels they control.”  
  
Steven nodded, listening to Stone Wall’s drawl. Everything always sounded so much better in Stone Wall’s accent, so much surer and more dignified. He did his best to listen to everything Stone Wall ever said.  
  
“One of the globalists is right here in the city, right?” Steven asked, doing his best to show that he paid attention. “The city’s under the thumb of some heeb woman, right?”  
  
“Exactly,” Stone Wall said, nodding so that the plastic beard of his mask pressed against the shiny metal armor on his chest. “Skitter. Not very old, but she’s used the cabal’s blood money to corrupt the city’s defenders so that she and her degenerate lackeys run the place.” He clapped Steven’s shoulder, making his knees sag a bit. “But don’t worry. She may be cunning and devious, but she doesn’t have the inherent strength of the white race. We’ll drive her out, and all the rest of the scum that follow her.”  
  
Steven nodded, fingering the baseball bat leaning next to the window. Everything made so much more sense when Stone Wall said it. The occasional bits of worries and doubts just went far, far away when he listened to the boss talking about how they were _destined_ to restore America.  
  
“And besides,” Steven said, half to himself, as he looked out the window. “Doesn’t she just control bugs? I’m not some sissy little girl to get freaked out over a spider or two.”  
  
“That’s the spirit,” Stone Wall said, before turning away from Steven. Steven could hear him clattering down the stairs, his metal boots thumping loudly. As he left, Steven nodded to himself, reassured that he was doing the right thing with the right people, and that the Brotherhood was on the right path.  
  
A cloud passed over the sky. Funny, but it seemed _really_ low to the ground, only just above the rooftops. Steven leaned forward a bit, trying to get a better view of it through the window. Then his mouth fell open.  
  
There was a _fuckton_ of bugs coming straight towards him. Steven jumped backwards, grasping for the baseball bat. It fell through his fingers at the same time the first few bugs hit the window and started crawling through the vent work at the top of it.  
  
Behind him, Steven could hear the rest of the Brotherhood starting to shout. He could feel and hear more bugs coming up out of the floorboards. Holy _fuck_ , he hadn’t thought there were this many bugs in the entire city! They were coming from all over the place, and they were _getting_ on him!  
  
“Gagh! Little fucking- ghk!”  
  
Steven gagged as insects flew into his open mouth. Oh God, oh God, he could feel their legs pricking against his tongue, squishing against the roof of his mouth, oh god, he was going to throw up-!  
  
The last rational thought that entered Steven’s mind was that maybe this city wouldn’t be quite as easy to set right as he had thought.

*******

This time, Toggle and I were in the back of the PRT van. The N.A.B were starting to come out in force now, and Dispatch didn’t want us going off on our own, over such a long distance. That was all fine, just so long as the other Wards were being told the same thing. If it was only the two youngest girls on the team being treated like that, then I’d have a problem.  
  
We were heading into what _had_ been a fight. There’d been some calls about clouds of bugs and screaming coming from a spot two miles away or so. No prize for who was responsible for _that_. I sighed, wondering just how many losers I was going to have to cuff. And, much worse, have someone a lot stronger pick them up and get them into the lock-up wagon trailing us. That was always humiliating, asking a trooper or a cop to pull some guy to their feet because I couldn’t.  
  
Toggle was kicking her feet back and forth on the bench opposite from me. Her mace dangled off the end of the bench, occasionally clacking against the rear doors as the van took a sharp turn. She seemed to be in a pretty good mood. Part of me was amazed at how long her high was lasting. It had been the better part of a week, and normally, I would have been expecting a slump by now.  
  
But I was _not_ complaining. We needed every one we could get right now, and a Toggle that was happy and a bit hyper was way better than one that didn’t think she was worth anything. And not just as a fighter. It could be exhausting, and even irritating, dealing with a Toggle that had more energy than a sack full of puppies, but it didn’t _hurt_ like it did when I talked with Toggle on her downward slope.  
  
Everyone in the van rocked forward as the van squealed to a stop. I reached over and opened the doors, hopping out. Toggle was right on my heels, with the PRT squad piling out behind her.  
  
I looked around at where we had ended up. We were along one of the outskirts of Brockton Bay, one of the few areas that hadn’t seen a resurgence in prosperity from the portal. This block, and the two on either side, were small, mom-and-pop stores, a lot like the neighborhood we had fought Brigade in. Lot more graffiti and a lot less signs in various Asian languages, though.  
  
It was obvious where our target was. Not only had the van stopped right in front of it, there was a guy half in and half out of the open door, his hands tied behind him and hanging from the door knob. I glanced in through the door, but couldn’t see anything inside. No lights on, and the guy was blocking most of the view.  
  
I walked up to him. Behind me, I could hear the troopers forming a perimeter as another black van roared past us to do the same on the back half of the store. A waste of effort, probably, since anyone who could still walk would have ran away long before we got here.  
  
“You awake?” I asked, prodding him with a finger.  
  
He groaned, his head rolling to one side. He was wearing a white ski-mask, pulled down over his face, with holes cut out to see through. Well, it had been white. And it might be white again if he put it through the wash a few dozen times. There were a _lot_ of crushed insects ground in to the cloth.  
  
“Ugh,” he moaned. “Don’t, don’t touch me.”  
  
I ignored him, pushing him back so the PRT team behind me could get through the door. Four of them came charging through, brushing past me and hitting me in the back with their elbows. I looked deeper into the empty store.  
  
Or, well, disused store. It sure wasn’t empty. There were a bunch of overturned cots and chests and stuff. And a whole lot of thugs, sprawled all over the floor, or tied to heavy stuff. Their own buddies, in some cases. I could see grey, glimmering strands of spider silk as the troopers swept their lights over the scene.  
  
“Wow,” Toggle said, looking over my shoulder. “That’s a real mess. Think anybody got out?”  
  
“Maybe,” I said, looking down and fiddling with the silk ropes holding the guy to the door. “Can’t see anyone in costume, and it’s not like a gang to let the thugs go off without someone watching over them.”  
  
A comparison to us and the PRT entered my mind momentarily. Then I dismissed it as I got the loose knot holding him in place free. He sagged to the ground, arms hanging limply by his sides.  
  
“Sooooo,” Toggle drawled, putting her hands on her hips as she stood over the man. He had to be at least a foot taller than her, and an easy seventy pounds heavier. “Can you get up, or do we have to drag you to the paddy wagon?”  
  
“Fuck off,” the man groaned, getting to his knees, rubbing the sides of his face through his mask. “You can’t tell me what to do.”  
  
“Yeah, actually we can,” I chimed in, glancing through the door as the other PRT team came in through the back way. “We’re superheroes, and you’re a Neo-Nazi thug who’s under arrest. Get your hands behind your back.”  
  
“How dare you call me that,” the man said, straightening up, though still staying on his knees. “I’m a _classic liberal_ who understands the need for-“  
  
“Shut up,” I said, stepping behind him and fishing a pair of plastic zip ties out of my belt. “You have the right to remain silent and boy, you better use it.”  
  
“Stop radicalizing me!” He shouted, though he was at least smart enough not to try to wrench his hands out of my grip as I cuffed him. “If you keep oppressing me, it’s going to be your fault if I shoot up a synagogue!”  
  
Damn it, Skitter, couldn’t you have stung this guy on the lips with a wasp or something? Even as I thought that, I hated myself for thinking of it. I shouldn’t be _encouraging_ criminals to hurt other criminals, even if I liked Skitter  
  
“Can you walk?” I asked, grunting as I tried to pull him upwards.  
  
“I- fuck!” The man swore as he tried to stand, got wobbly, and headed for the concrete. Toggle stepped in, dropping her mace to grab him. I held on to his hands, cuffed behind his back, my muscles suddenly screaming at carrying so much weight on them.  
  
“Come on,” I growled, pulling him back. He groaned, slumping back on his heels and collapsing to the pavement. “Fine then,” I groaned, digging into my belt.  
  
I pulled out the printed card with his Miranda rights that every Ward, Protectorate hero and PRT trooper carried and read them off. I could have done it with my eyes closed, but that wasn’t procedure. And you _had_ to follow procedure.  
  
“So now what,” Toggle asked, tossing her mace from hand to hand, forming a miniature rainbow. “We go get some troopers to haul him to the van?”  
  
“Yeah, why not,” I said, ducking into the store.  
  
It was my first chance to get a really good look at the inside of it, beyond a second-long glance as the troopers had stormed inside. I would have said it looked like a bomb had gone off, but I _knew_ what that could look like, especially if there were people around it. This was just a mess. Stuff strewn all over the place, a pretty awful smell of piss and fear, and grumbling, moaning thugs getting hauled into a line by the troopers. Almost all of them were wearing white hoods or ski masks or something along those lines. If they thought that was going to give them a secret identity like I had or something, they were in for a surprise.  
  
From here, I could notice a damn big hole in the back wall. It looked like someone had taken out a window or something, taking a good chunk of the wall with it. A Brute, maybe, or a Blaster. Where ever they were, I couldn’t see them down here.  
  
“Anybody upstairs?” I asked the nearest trooper as he took some photos of the scene.  
  
“Just some more gangbangers,” he grunted, leaning over to snap a picture of some scattered bills.  
  
Damn it. Looked like the leader here really had gotten away. Well, at least he had been forced to leave behind his merry band. I just wished that _we_ had something to do with it, instead of coming in to clean up the leftovers the Undersiders had made. I was a _hero_ , damnit. Even if at least one villain- no, there was no time for that. I couldn’t afford to get distracted.  
  
“Oh well,” I said. “We’ve got the guy out there cuffed and ready for the slammer.”  
  
I looked over my shoulder and saw that I could have saved my breath. The lock-up wagon had finally arrived, and two BBPD cops were hauling my new friend off towards it. Toggle was stepping inside, looking around. I could see her eyes widen behind her goggles.  
  
“Wow,” Toggle said, stepping over a crumpled-up Confederate flag laying on the floor. “Mom would tear a strip off my hide when my room gets half this bad.”  
  
I snorted and walked over to her. She smiled at me, resting her mace on her shoulder. There was only a single silhouette hovering behind her, colorful lights flowing through it.  
  
“Hey, Vista,” Toggle said, taking a step closer to me. She kind of towered over me, especially with all the padding and armor her costume had. “What a scene, huh?”  
  
“Yup,” I nodded, looking around the place. I could hear some cop cars coming, their sirens wailing.  
  
Well, it was good that they were coming here. I knew from past experience just how long it could take to get backup, especially _cop_ backup, once the fighting really started. At least things were just in the early stages here, and there were still enough bodies to go around to take care of everything. Later on, especially if the National Guard or police from other cities weren’t called in, you could end up sitting on some perp for half an hour, only to get called away to a crime in progress, leaving him there. Not a fun feeling.  
  
“So what do you think happens next,” Toggle said, stepping to the side as the prisoners down here started to get filed out, cursing and grumbling as they went. “Lunch time, I hope. I’m getting pretty hungry.”  
  
“You’re always hungry,” I said, grabbing an oat and fruit bar out of my belt and tossing it to her.  
  
“Ah, thanks, Vee!” Toggle said, catching the bar and wrapping me in a one-armed hug. I jumped a bit, before patting her on the back. “Puberty, huh?” She asked, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite out of it. “You’re lucky you’re not having to deal with that too much.”  
  
I turned my head and glared up at her from behind my visor. She was too busy wolfing down the bar to notice the look I was sending her. And I _really_ didn’t want to say anything in front of the troopers. I _knew_ they were listening in.   
  
She didn’t mean anything harmful by it, I told myself as Toggle finished the bar off and stuffed the empty wrapper into a pocket. She just lets her mouth talk without her brain chiming in. I took a deep breath and then exhaled.  
  
“It’s so cold in here,” Toggle said, possibly picking up on my mood. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered theatrically. “Come on, let’s get outside.”  
  
I nodded and left the store, blinking a bit as the morning sun hit me. The N.A.B. thugs were getting pushed into a big van that, except for the blue and white coloring, looked almost identical to the black PRT van next to it. The road was closed off with cop cars sloppily pulled to a stop in either direction. Not too many people, though, certainly not compared to the fight with Brigade. Had the people here known about the N.A.B. and wanted to avoid getting asked questions? Or where there just flat-out not very many people here?  
  
I walked down the street a bit, getting out of the way of the flow of people in and out of the Brotherhood base. Toggle followed me, almost tripping on my heels, she took such long strides. I stopped at the corner of the store, leaning against a light pole and looking out along the street. Toggle stopped just a few feet away, standing right on the edge of the curb.  
  
“I’m glad I’m here with you,” Toggle said suddenly, staring down the street before glancing at me. “Miss Militia wanted me to wait with the reserves, but I talked her into sending me with you instead.”  
  
“Really?” I asked, turning my body slightly to look at her. “Why?”  
  
“Why?” Toggle asked, sounding a bit puzzled. “Because we’re friends, of course. We work together great, we’re the same age, we’re both girls…” she hooked her mace onto her belt so she could wave her hands around more freely. “I love working with you.” She smiled at me. “You’re smart and you get along with me…”  
  
I really didn’t know what to say. Yeah, I liked Toggle. But I had never really thought about coming out and saying that I liked her. She could be a bit overwhelming to deal with, especially when she was really high or really low, but she was still nice to see, even if we had never done a thing together as Missy and Anny.  
  
“In fact, Vista,” Toggle coughed nervously into her gloved fist, “I was kind of wondering if-”  
  
“Dispatch to Vista, Toggle, Patrol Thirteen and Five,” I jumped a bit as the earbud in my ear sprang to life. “There’s a disturbance in Stately Park. Parahumans confirmed, Hellhound and an unknown number of others. Get over there immediately.”  
  
“Roger that, Dispatch,” I said, speaking into the mic built into my gauntlet. “Toggle and Vista moving out now.”  
  
I glanced at Toggle. Her shoulders were slumped, and she was looking into the air. She mouthed something that I couldn’t read. Then she looked up and shot me a small, confident smile. I nodded back at her, as I listened with half an ear to Sergeant Blanc asking who was going to take care of the N.A.B thugs.  
  
I looked around, searching for a convenient, high-placed roof to get up to. The park was close enough I should be able to get Toggle and I there pretty quickly. With the way the PRT was arguing about who would go and who would make sure the prisoners didn’t run off, it sounded like we were _easily_ going to be the first on the scene. Again.  
  
It wasn’t even noon yet.

**Maid to Serve: Double Cross**

  
I glanced at my watch nervously. I was really, really late. I _needed_ to get there faster than I was going to. Unless, maybe, I cheated? Find an alley, pop to the top of the roof, and then take a few steps per mile?  
  
I just might have to do that. I had gotten so wrapped up in spending time with Taylor that I had _completely_ forgotten than I needed to get over to Skitter’s lair. I had to admit, the way I’d bundled Taylor out the door, still half-dressed in her maid costume, hadn’t been very nice of me. I was going to have to do something nice to her to make up for it.  
  
It was kind of stressful, having a maid. Even one who was as cute and funny and thoughtful as Taylor. Well, most of the stress was from remembering that I had to be Vista around her, not Missy. At least my costume’s visor didn’t go down past my nose, so we could kiss each other.  
  
It was _nice_ kissing Taylor. Just as nice as kissing Skitter, actually, though in a slightly different way. Although the guilt that came from knowing I was kissing (and doing a whole lot more than just kissing) two different women, neither of whom knew about the other wasn’t fun at all. But there was just no way I could possibly give up either Taylor or Skitter.  
  
I decided I had to take a shortcut. I needed to be at Skitter’s in eight minutes, and I was still almost a mile away. I ducked into an alleyway and, thirty seconds later, was merely a block away. And I was certain I hadn’t even caught any insects up in my bridge.  
  
I didn’t want Skitter to know that I was Vista, for some pretty obvious reasons. Supervillain, duh. Even if she kissed just as good as Taylor. It was a pity that she kept her half-mask on when I was working as her maid, though. I knew why, it was for the same reasons I kept my Vista visor (ha) on, even when both Taylor and I were otherwise completely naked. I had to protect my secret identity, and Skitter had to protect hers.  
  
And we were both doing a great job of it. I didn’t have the slightest clue who Skitter was behind the mask, and I was sure that Taylor didn’t know I was Vista, either. I really should look into who she was one of these days. Even if I was certain it was just some random girl I had never even heard of before.  
  
I breezed into Skitter’s lair, making it in plenty of time. I headed straight for the tiny little side room I changed in, looking forward to today. Taylor had shown me an _amazing_ trick and I was pretty certain I would be able to pull it off in front of Skitter. The look on her face when I managed it, I felt a warm feeling running through me just at the thought.  
  
I twitched my maid costume into place, giving myself a once-over to make certain everything was in place. Then I stepped out and poked my head into the great room Skitter used for conferences and gatherings. Charlotte was sitting at the large table, half a dozen bits of paper spread around her. I knocked on the side of the doorframe and she looked up at me.  
  
“Hey, Charlotte,” I said, leaning my head in. “Just checking in. Does Skitter have anything she wants me to do before heading up?”  
  
“No, I don’t think so,” Charlotte said. “In fact, she’s not even back yet. Left this morning, said she’d be back later. If she calls, I’ll let her know you’re here.”  
  
“Thanks,” I said, shooting her a smile.  
  
I started up towards the second story. Dang, looks like I could have taken my time getting here and not have been forced to use my powers. Then again, maybe I could have spent more time with Taylor, and still have used my powers to get here quickly. The second option sounded a lot more appealing than the first.  
  
I let myself in, looking around the main room on the second story. Sure enough, no sign of Skitter, besides a book left laying on the couch. I debated putting it away and doing some other tidying up. Then I decided it would be far better to do that kind of thing when Skitter was in the room with me, watching me.  
  
I knew how fun it was watching a maid work (or ‘work’). I always _loved_ watching Taylor, and I knew she loved showing off for me. Quietly asking me if everything was alright, ma’am, and if there was _anything_ else she could do to help make my life easier. I could usually think of an idea or two.  
  
Even if it was just taking a minute to admire how cute Taylor looked as a maid. The black and white uniform seemed to really _fit_ her, like she belonged in it. It always got my heart going in my chest when I looked at her, that shy little smirk she had as she twirled around, letting me see every inch of her… Man, I had it bad for her.  
  
And I had it bad for Skitter, too. Even behind her mask, I could tell that she looked at me the same way I looked at Taylor. And the way she would hold me, it was just as tender as the grip I held Taylor in. It really was wonderful whenever I was with either woman, even if they were obviously so, so different.  
  
I went over to the window and stared out of it, feeling the blush on my cheeks not dying down at all. I knew I was so _lucky_ having Taylor as my maid and being Skitter’s maid in turn. It was weird, yes, totally unlike anything else had ever done ever, but it felt so _right_. There was something about Taylor, and something about Skitter, that just made me want to spend so much time with each girl. The way we kissed, the look in Taylor’s eyes and the way Skitter sighed, it was like music or wine to me.  
  
I sighed happily, looking out over Brockton Bay, not really _seeing_ anything. Sometimes I thought that I should introduce Skitter to Taylor. But I knew that wasn’t a good idea. Taylor had _way_ too strong of a sense of right and wrong to want to meet someone like Skitter. And Skitter could be so _demanding_ and magnetic, she’d swoop Taylor right up, taking her away from me so that she could have two maids.  
  
Okay, the thought of Taylor and I working side by side to tend to Skitter’s whims was a pretty… _interesting_ one. But I could tell the difference between what was hot and what was a good idea. Just like the idea of whipping off my visor when I was with Taylor was a fun one, but I still wasn’t quite ready to share my secret identity with her. A girl had to have some secrets, right?  
  
Luckily, neither Taylor or Skitter ever tried to find out my secrets. They both were always _super_ understanding if I couldn’t make a session, either as Vista or Missy (and, thankfully, I had yet to mess up by using the wrong name). And I returned the courtesy, not asking why Taylor or Skitter couldn’t be my maid or let me clean up for them. I sometimes wondered what Taylor did when she wasn’t with me, but it couldn’t be _that_ important, could it?  
  
Hey, that was Taylor, jogging up the street. She looked pretty out of breath. Had she come straight here as soon as she left my place? I watched with interest as she stopped right in front of the doors to the building. Even from this bad angle, I could see her taking some deep breaths and recovering. She straightened up and brushed her hair to the sides of her face and straightened her clothes, making herself look even cuter than normal. Then she stepped inside and I lost sight of her.  
  
I wondered what Taylor wanted with Skitter.

* * *


	12. Maid to Serve Ch. 8

**Maid to Serve Chapter 8**

  
I could hear her coming up behind me. There was the bone-rattling crash of masonry as the wall I had put between us collapsed. My breath was burning in my lungs as I ran, my legs going as fast as I could. I didn’t dare look behind me.  
  
I reached out with my power, bringing the nearest building down so I could get up onto the roof. I _ran_ up to it, crossing the compressed twenty stories in just a few bounds. Then I instantly let go again, sending the office building rocketing back up to its proper height. I tapped at my mic, but there was nothing, not even static. Nobody was listening.  
  
I turned around, staring down at the distant ground. There was nothing there. No people, no cars, nothing. Just the plastic, pink push car I had owned when I was four, grown to ten times its proper size.  
  
I felt sweat trickle down the back of my neck. Where was she? Where was I? I didn’t know where I was. This didn’t even look like Brockton Bay. I turned around and froze.  
  
She was right in front of. Tremendous, bigger than a house. Overgrown dog heads growled and screamed at me, biting the air with teeth longer than my forearm. On top of it, the emaciated upper half of a woman hung loosely, almost bent over the mountain of flesh that was coming for me, batting aside antennae and A/C units.  
  
I wasn’t wearing my Vista uniform. The comforting, tight confines of the green and white outfit were gone, and there wasn’t the green tint to the world from my visor. Instead, I felt the ruffle of layered skirts brushing against my legs, and the breeze blowing over my exposed arms.  
  
I was dressed in my maid costume. I couldn’t use my power. I couldn’t do a thing as the monster reached out with a claw, forming out of the mass. I started to scream, knowing what was going to happen-  
  
I jolted awake as a hand shook my shoulder. There was a _clunk_ as my head darted backwards, knocking the back of my helmet against the wall behind me. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to focus and getting rid of all the junk in them. I could feel cold sweat all over my body, getting soaked up by my costume.  
  
“Sorry, Vista,” Snowglare said, looking down at me. Her _blinding_ white costume wasn’t doing a thing to make it easier to get my eyes working properly. “Time to wake up.”  
  
I nodded, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. Had I been dreaming? What about? Whatever it was, if it made me feel that way, I didn’t _want_ to remember it.  
  
“Urgh,” I said, reaching up underneath my visor to rub my eyes. “What time is it?”  
“Ten thirty,” Snowglare said over her shoulder, walking over to Toggle and shaking her awake.  
  
I stared at the ceiling, taking blinks that lasted so long there was a good question if I was going to open them again. Ten thirty?  
  
“Tell you mean ten in the night,” I said, slowly pushing myself off of the bench I had curled up on. My heart was slowly slowing down, no longer pounding against the inside of my rib cage.  
  
“Ten thirty in the morning,” Snowglare said cheerfully. “The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the bosses want us to go stop L of L from burning down any more warehouses than he already has.” She paused for a second, turning her head to look at me. “What time did you go to sleep?”  
  
“Five thirty,” I said, stretching and wincing at all the aches and pains that came from sleeping on a wooden bench. “No,” I corrected myself. “We got _in_ at five thirty. It was seven before I came up here to go to sleep.”  
  
“Hm,” Snowglare half laughed, half snorted. “You should have gone back to base, and let the redshirts handle the prisoners or whatever they were messing around with.” She sniffed. “And showered and gotten into a new costume. _I_ did, because it’s my duty to inspire those around me.”  
  
I was too tired to respond. I slowly turned my head to look at Toggle as she got off her bench, almost falling on her face as she did so. She didn’t look any more well-rested than I did.  
  
God, what day was it? Okay, it had started on Sunday. No, Saturday. And there was a night fight on… hell, was that last night or the night before, when we had broken up that rally? And there was that skirmish with Stonewall and his enhanced thugs. Had that been before or after the rally? It was certainly during the day, I remembered how hot I had gotten. And then…  
  
Screw it, it was too much effort to remember everything that happened. It wasn’t over yet, either. I followed after Snowglare as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room Toggle and I had crashed in.  
  
The PRT headquarters were a hive of activity. I could see plenty of troopers, cops, support staff, and what looked like lawyers or something all walking around and talking to each other. I wondered how many of them were listening to each other.  
  
“Hey, Toggle,” I said, glancing at her.  
  
“Hey, Vista,” she said, sounding even more tired that I felt. _That_ was quite the feat. She didn’t seem up for any more conversation, and neither did I.  
  
Our boots heavily clomped along the tile floor as we followed Snowglare down from the upper reaches of the PRT building to the motor pool. I found myself glancing longingly at the coffee some of the adults around us were guzzling like water. Coffee tasted _disgusting_ and smelled even worse. But I felt like I was about to fall asleep even as I walked.  
  
Nobody stopped to talk of us. They just stepped around me, like I was getting in their way. I gratefully slumped against the wall of the elevator we stepped into. Toggle did the same, letting her head rest against her chest. I knew I should be taking the time to fill myself in on the situation, learning more about what we were getting into. And if anything had happened while I had been asleep. But I just couldn’t muster the energy to form the words.  
  
We stepped out into the daylight. The air was choked with diesel fumes, and I could see someone getting chewed out as he mopped the spilled fuel away. My nose wrinkled, and I covered my face with my sleeve. Not that the smell of ash and smoke and sweat and blood was any better.  
  
“Where are we going again?” Toggle said, each word sounding like it was an effort to make.  
  
I glanced over at her. She was plodding along, her shoulders slumped and her head pointed at the ground. She hadn’t summoned any of her silhouettes yet.  
  
“Over to Clark Industrial Park,” Snowglare said, her heels clacking against the concrete as she talked over her shoulder. “Light of Liberty and some N.A.B. goons are trying to burn down some warehouses. You two will run him off, while I,” she ran a hand through her overly-long, platinum blonde hair, “will save the buildings and whoever is trapped in them.”  
  
It was obvious what Snowglare thought was more important. It was what she was doing, just like it always was. I half-sighed, half-yawned. God, I was tired. What were Light of Liberty’s powers? Some kind of pyrokinetic. At least we had a good enough counter with Snowglare.  
  
The three of us skirted around the edge of the PRT building, heading to the waterfront. The smell of salt and decay started to mingle in with everything else I was smelling. I yawned again, even more heavily than before.  
  
My hand went into a pocket, aiming for some bars to have for breakfast. Or lunch, maybe. I could only find the one, though. I sighed, pulling it out. Raisin and chocolate chips. What on earth had I been thinking when I grabbed this? I hated raisins.   
  
It was still better than nothing. I peeled it open and glanced at Toggle. I sighed again and broke off half of it, ignoring how my stomach rumbled at the mere thought of doing so.  
  
“Toggle, catch,” I said, tossing one half over to her.  
  
She looked up and barely caught it, only after it had bounced off a lens of her goggles. She looked at me and smiled weakly, before eating the entire thing in one bite. I didn’t make mine last any longer. I grimly chewed and swallowed, before washing it done with the last of my canteen. I must have forgotten to fill it after getting back last night. This morning. Ugh, maybe Snowglare could be as good as she thought she was and we’d wrap this up quick.  
  
We slipped through the fence marking the boundary of the PRT property. There were only a few troopers taking a smoke break off to one corner as we got closer to the water’s edge. I glanced around, taking it in.  
  
There was nobody up in the sky, which was a good thing. We didn’t have any flyers any more, and even the local villains only had Starstruck. And Skitter, I supposed, on that bug of hers. While the N.A.B. had two flyers.  
  
“Right there,” Snowglare said, pointing off to my left.  
  
I turned my head to look. The bay swept up in a curve, and my eyes ran along it. Finally, near to the end of the bay, I could see a small pillar of black rising over the distant, hazy buildings. That would be the warehouses, I supposed. At least it was a perfect, straight shot to it.  
  
I gathered my power, getting closer to Snowglare and Toggle. I didn’t want them falling off the edge of the bridge. The ocean was cold this time of year, and our costumes weren’t that easy to swim in.  
  
Especially Snowglare. I didn’t know _how_ she had talked the PR department into letting a Blaster into wearing a sexy costume without any of the padding or armor non-Brutes got, but she had. I did know _why_ she had done it. It was because she was _Snowglare_ , God’s gift to the world. Assuming she saw God as more important than herself, that was.  
  
A tight blouse with cleavage, pants that I was sure she had to spend at least a minute wiggling into, and, oddly enough, a full-face visor with a snow flake etched onto it. Why she didn’t want to show off her self-described _glorious_ face was beyond me, but at least it was a nod towards actually being a superhero.  
  
“Everyone ready?” I asked, trying to hype myself up, get myself in the proper fighting mood.  
  
“Of course I am. Snowglare is ready to save the day,” Snowglare said, putting her gloved hands on her hips.  
  
“Sure,” Toggle said, without any energy at all. She sighed heavily, unhooking her mace from her belt.  
  
In a flash, a good mile or so was compressed to a space of a yard. And, for once, the band underneath my feet was a uniform color, the green of sea water. Not one of us stepped on it, instead going from concrete sidewalk to concrete sidewalk.  
  
I let the distortion fade behind me, and it snapped back to normal, the PRT building vanishing behind us. From here, I could smell the smoke of something burning, and see the sky beginning to blacken. I couldn’t see the fire, though, or any mobs of running, screaming civilians. That was usually a good clue about where the trouble was.  
  
I could hear the sounds of fire trucks in the distance, though. Hopefully, we could take down or chase off the Empire 88 before they arrived. No, chase off the _Brotherhood_. God, I was tired.  
  
“Let’s go, girls,” Snowglare said, taking off down the abandoned street, deeper into the industrial park.  
  
I paused for a moment, turning to look at Toggle. She was still looking pretty bad, shoulders slumped, the whole package. I wasn’t feeling much better. But I was the senior superhero, with a couple more years of experience (and a couple more years on the job than _Snowglare_ , not that anyone but I cared). I needed to watch over her and make certain she was doing a good job. I tried to remember _how_ to do that.  
  
“Hey, you doing alright?” I asked, reaching up to put a hand on Toggle’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, Vista,” Toggle said, not looking up at me. “I’m fine.” Her voice was flat and leaden with fatigue.  
  
I bit my lip, not sure how much of that I believed. I didn’t believe _all_ of it, obviously, but I wasn’t sure if the problem was that Toggle was just feeling tired and needed to get her blood pumping to get back into the game. Or if she was feeling worse that that, and needed to sit this one out.  
  
“You been taking your pills?” I asked, feeling uncomfortably invasive, asking about something like that.  
  
“Stopped,” Toggle said, taking some slow steps forward. “Kept on making me throw up. Doc’s looking into a new set.”  
  
Shit. That would do it, alright. I glanced around, at Snowglare’s retreating back. I wasn’t sure if she had noticed we weren’t keeping up with her, yet. Just as well. There was no need for her to listen into something like this.  
  
“Are you up for this?” I asked, tightening my grip on her shoulder. “If you need to just wait until all… this,” I waved my free hand at her, “goes away, then I won’t say a thing.”  
  
“No!” Toggle said, a fierce note entering her voice. “I can do this! I’ve _got_ to do this. What good would just lazing around my room do while you’re out fighting?”  
  
I nodded slowly. I, god, I wasn’t sure if I should believe her or not. But it really was kind of late to send her back. And, much more selfishly, I wanted to work with Toggle instead of Snowglare. Even a Toggle who was slipping into one of her depressive states.  
  
“Okay then,” I said, patting her on the shoulder. My glove came away with even more soot on it. “Then let’s go catch up with Her Highness.”  
  
Toggle nodded, lifting her head to look up at Snowglare, who was almost a block away by now. In a flash, we were up behind her, just a few feet now. She was looking from side to side as we crossed in front of alleys and doors, a white hexagon shimmering in each hand.  
  
“See anything?” I called out as we walked, going deeper and deeper into the park.  
  
“Nothing,” Snowglare said. “I can _smell_ it, though.”  
  
I wondered how, with the full-face mask over her head. I could as well, the kind of tangy smell of wood mixing in with god knows what else. I really hoped that the warehouse didn’t have anything that could kill you if it burned or evaporated. Wasn’t bleach supposed to mess up your lungs if you breathed it in?  
  
The place was _dead_. And it was pretty close to the portal, too, so there should have been a ton of movement around the place. Was it because it was the weekend (assuming it was still Sunday)? Or because of the N.A.B, both them generally being in the city and them being _here_ , specifically?  
  
“Wait!” Snowglare said, holding a hand up. “I can hear something.” She paused for just a second or so. “Fire, down here!”  
  
She turned down an empty street and started running along it. I blinked, and took off after her. I could hear the thuds of Toggle starting just after I did. Over the sounds of me running, I could hear the crackle of the fire. It sounded _big_.  
  
It wasn’t a very long street, and I wasn’t running all that fast. But I could still feel my heart start to pound in my chest before I had gotten more than a hundred feet or so. Man, I shouldn’t have bothered going to sleep at all if it wasn’t going to give me anymore energy.  
  
And now I had to do something that would get me even more out of breath. I tapped my mic on, intending to report in to Dispatch. The squeal of static, _right_ up against my ear, made me stumble, tripping forward a few paces before I recovered my balance. Right, no radios, not until the IT crew managed to undo Hashtag’s sabotage.  
  
Panting, I turned the corner Snowglare had vanished around. Even over my own labored breathing, I could hear the weird, tearing sound of her power as she shot off some of her summoned hexagons. Was she shooting them at the fire, or at people.  
  
I came around the corner, ready for either.  
  
Snowglare was just a few feet ahead of me, and I almost ran into her back. As soon as I came around the corner, I could feel the heat from the fire, an almost solid wall I had to push through. The flames were halfway up the side of the warehouse a few dozen yards away, and it was already almost too hot to get any closer too.  
  
The heat didn’t seem to be a problem for the people standing in front of it. I shaded my eyes, looking at them. And then, almost too late, realizing how stupid it was, standing around still trying to get a good look at people who could see me.  
  
I leaped to the side, putting myself behind an already burned out delivery truck. A spurt of flame landed where I had been, burning readily even on the asphalt. I hadn’t even seen which figure had thrown it, though it was obviously from Light of Liberty.  
  
The way Toggle reacted as she ran around the corner and almost stepped into the puddle of fire would have been funnier if the situation wasn’t so serious. I couldn’t hear her over my own heart and the roar of the burning building, but she had some extremely shocked body language. She ducked back behind the building she had come around.  
  
I glanced around the corner of the truck I was hiding behind. It was still pretty hot, and I didn’t dare put my hand on the charred skeleton of the frame. I unhooked my baton from my belt and shook it out to the full length, locking it into place.  
  
Snowglare was shooting more of her hexagons at the crowd in front of the burning building. They were starting to scatter as the freezing cold, white hexagons flew at them, bursting apart when they hit the ground or flew past to smash against the burning warehouse. If Snowglare wanted to put that fire out, she was going to need a hexagon big enough that it would knock the building down anyway, I thought.  
  
Light of Liberty’s thugs were wearing black fire coats with yellow strips along the bottom, and the usual white hoods or masks or whatever the unpowered members of the N.A.B. could get their hands on. I couldn’t see him, though, and crept along the side of the truck to get a better view at the other half of the street.  
  
There he was, stripped to the waist, and all of his exposed skin made out of fire. It licked up in white, red and orange streams, and waved from side to side as he moved. It would have been pretty, if he wasn’t trying to burn the three of us alive.  
  
He and Snowglare were dueling, shooting bolts of red fire and white hexagons of pure cold at each other. They were each scrambling from side to side as the shots whipped up and down the length of the street. Behind him, I could see towering flames starting to lick at the buildings on either side of the warehouse. One of them was a factory, three times the size of the warehouse. If _that_ went up, you’d be able to see it from Boston.  
  
I glanced around me, trying to decide what to do. Should I help Snowglare or go after the mooks? The skinheads who were scattering, ducking into the alleys or kicking down doors. Or, I rolled my eyes, running right by me, not even looking at me.  
  
I lashed out with my baton, catching him on the kneecap. He went down to the ground, squealing like a stuck pig. I stood up, glancing over my shoulder to make certain I wasn’t giving Light a shot at me. Then I kicked his nail-studded baseball bat to the side, and quickly cuffed him. He was whining and swearing up a storm, and I thought he might have been drinking or something.  
  
“Shut up,” I said, dragging him back into cover. I couldn’t have managed it if he hadn’t tried to stand up and then fallen in the right direction. “Shut up and stay here,” I added, peering out around the corner again.  
  
Light of Liberty was shouting something. I could see his jaw moving up and down, and he was waving his arms around. But I didn’t have the slightest clue _what_ he was saying. His words were like the roar of a furnace instead of anything a person could say.  
  
I didn’t need to see him to understand how dangerous he was. Toggle peeked around the corner again, and he flung a melting, drooling ball of flame at her, leaving irregularly spaced drops of flame along its trail, before it slammed into the side of the building she was sheltering on.  
  
Okay, there was obviously no way I was going to be much good against him directly. Even if I could withstand the heat enough to get close, my baton wouldn’t do a thing against a man made out of fire. The same went for Toggle, probably. I was certain she wouldn’t be able to use her silhouettes to protect herself against the heat. So we’d, somehow, have to fight indirectly. Or let Snowglare do all of it, and listen to her take the credit for defeating the entire group while still managing to protect us as we cowered behind her.  
  
I crawled back along the truck, kicking the legs out of the guy as he tried to make a run for it. From the way he started cursing, that knocked the fight out of him, without knocking the _life_ out of him. I peered around the corner at Toggle, and nodded encouragingly. I compressed the distance between us so that there wasn’t even an inch-wide gap for any flames to shoot through.  
  
Toggle quickly joined me, slamming her back against the blackened metal of the truck. With her height, it was easier for her to see through the web of struts that formed the frame and engine block.  
  
“Toggle,” I said, leaning in close to her to make certain she could hear me over the burning fire. “Can you remember if there’s any water tanks high up here?”  
  
Toggle bit her lip, tilting her head to one side. She shook her head and I grimaced. We were going to have to go looking for them.  
  
“Okay, here’s the plan,” I said, extending the fingers on one hand. “One, we get up to the roofs,” I curled a finger back. “Two, we find a water tank or something. Three, I form a bridge over to Liberty. Four, you smash the tower, and the water comes down on him. Got it?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess,” Toggle said. “What if it’s too far away? Out of sight, I mean. Will you be able to drop the water on him if you can’t see him?”  
  
Damn. That was a good point. With enough water, sure, eventually. But I had a feeling we’d be finding one tank, if we were lucky.  
  
“Don’t worry,” I said, clapping her shoulder and grinning. I was fighting against a pyromaniac, and my blood was thrumming in my veins. “Just get that tower down, and I’ll spread it out, soak the entire block.  
  
That may not put him _out_ , but it sure would make it a lot harder for him to get around. I just wished I could remember the details on how Light of Liberty’s power worked, at least when he was a human torch. I certainly didn’t want to _kill_ him.  
  
Both of us glanced over the top of the truck. Snowglare and Light of Liberty were still fighting. It was hard to watch, with how bright Snowglare’s projectiles were. Light of Liberty seemed to be thinking the same thing, given how bad his aim was. He probably figured he’d hit eventually, or just have Snowglare step into a pool of fire that he had already laid down.  
  
“Snowglare!” I shouted, cupping my hands. She turned her mask towards us, sidestepping a fireball. “We’re going up!” I pointed at the sloped roofs above us.  
  
She nodded, just once, and turned back to fighting Light of Liberty. I blinked my eyes, trying to wash out the glare from the projectile she sent out, the brightly glowing hexagon dashing out with a high-pitched tearing sound.  
  
  
I created a bridge from where Toggle and I were, right up to the top of the nearest roof. We quickly took it, leaving my prisoner behind on the ground. He was shakily getting to his feet again, and I was certain he was about to run. Oh, well, too bad, I supposed. We’d get him sooner or later.  
  
More importantly, I couldn’t see any convenient water tanks on the nearby rooftops. Man, I hoped we weren’t going to have to use the ocean to slap Light of Liberty down. That would require a _way_ more complex distortion to get the water to flow up and then down.  
  
“You go that- ugh,” I stopped, rubbing my head. What was I _thinking_? Toggle would find it pretty fucking hard to split up from me to search, given that we were up on the roofs and all. “Never mind,” I said. “Just stick close to me, okay?”  
  
“Sure,” Toggle said tiredly. She glanced down at the street, where Snowglare and Light of Liberty were still dueling.  
  
The fight didn’t seem to be making her blood pump the way it was mine. As soon as we got a moment to breathe, I was sending her home. Or getting Miss Militia or whoever to do so. If she was going deeper into a depressive state, she did _not_ need to be out in the fight.  
  
I clambered up the top of one of the pointed skylights the warehouse was using. I looked around, searching for the stereotypical three-legged towers that water tanks were supposed to be in. I could see plenty of tanks around, sure, but this was an industrial area. I wasn’t going to go around having Toggle knocking holes in Chemical Distillation Tank One or something.  
  
“Couldn’t we get the firefighters to do something?” Toggle asked, pointing off to the southwest.  
  
I stared down at her, and then up at the distant, white and blue flashing lights. I felt like slapping myself for not thinking of that. Of course. Why bother with a bunch of property damage when a fire truck could just blast him with a hose? And Toggle and I could shield the crew from any fire balls, and I doubted his goons were going to stop running until they fell in the Bay.  
  
“That is a _great_ idea, Toggle,” I said. “Come on, let’s go.”  
  
I reached out once again. I could just barely start to feel the twinges of living beings intruding on my power as I anchored the far end of the bridge. I started to call Snowglare again before remembering that the comms were busted. At least I remembered this time _before_ I piped some harsh static straight into my ear.  
  
Once more, Toggle and I took a short walk over half a mile or so. It was a weird experience to go from the top of the roof and hearing the roar of flames, to the sidewalk and hearing the wailing of sirens in just a second. It was a _funny_ experience to see a fire chief jump a few inches off the ground as we appeared in front of his truck. We ran around to the door as he leaned out of it.  
  
“I’m Vista, this is Toggle,” I said, almost mixing our names up. “Are your crews ready to go?”  
  
“Yeah, we just need the all-clear,” he shouted over the sirens. “Christ, Tony, kill the horns,” he said, leaning back inside momentarily. “Dd you get the guy?”  
  
“We will,” I said, as the sirens cut to a sudden stop. “We’re going to need your help.”  
  
I quickly explained what the plan was, Toggle at my side nodding. The chief (captain, shouty boss man, whatever his title was) looked a bit hesitant as I outlined the idea. But cowards didn’t sign up to rush into burning buildings.  
  
“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said, grabbing his radio. He started barking orders into it as I turned to Toggle.  
  
“Toggle, you stay with them,” I said. “I’m going to go back and tell Snowglare help’s on the way.”  
  
Toggle nodded, and climbed up onto the step by the truck’s door as the sirens started back up. I smiled at her, before turning around to face the complex of buildings. It wasn’t a straight shot from here to where Snowglare was, but it should still only take a minute or two of them to arrive. And the sooner the better, since there the cloud of black smoke hovering above the complex was getting thicker and thicker.  
  
I popped back up onto the nearest roof, planning on how I was going to get back. From here to there to there, I decided, marking each spot with my finger. And then stop just far enough away that I didn’t turn a corner into an inferno.  
  
I started out, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. And then I stopped dead in my tracks. As soon as I arrived on the second rooftop, I had started extending my power again. But it didn’t reach. There was the funny sense of blocking I got whenever something alive was in the way. They had to be up here on the rooftop. A civilian hiding? Or maybe…  
  
I looked along the lines of near-identical buildings, only broken up by streets and narrow alleys. There, about two-thirds along my route, a flash of movement. It was gone so quickly I couldn’t even tell anything but that there had _been_ movement.  
  
I frowned, and quickly made a bridge over to the building on the opposite side of the street. Leaning back slightly on the angled roof, I looked around. Row after row of blank windows looked back at me.  
  
I swatted at a bug that was hovering around my face, trying to get at the sweat rolling down my cheeks. Off in the distance, I could hear the deep-throated whoops of the fire truck sirens as they rolled along. Behind my visor, my eyes narrowed as I swung them back and forth.  
  
Down on the street, a small band of people broke out of one of the alleys. I jumped a bit at the sudden noise as they shouted at each other. Then my eyes narrowed, seeing the white masks the men were wearing. Light of Liberty’s henchmen, running away still.  
  
Had I seen… no, it couldn’t possibly have been them. Not from up here above ground level. I watched them run, splitting my attention between their running and the building I was sure someone was in.  
  
Then a crowd of insects burst out of the sewer grates. I winced, watching them envelop the N.A.B. goons in an instant. I could hear the screams drifting up towards me.  
  
I looked up, doing my best to ignore the thrashing shapes on the street beneath me. I looked across the gap again, and started, just a bit. The figure was back, standing inside one of the windows. It was too dark for me to make anything out, beyond that it was _big_ and looked funny.  
  
The shatter of glass behind me was my only warning. I had only barely started to turn when I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around me and tug me backwards, pulling me into the building I was standing on the roof of.  
  
I screamed as I was dragged inside the attic, feeling a crushingly strong grip wrapped around my torso. It was dark inside, and I couldn’t see anything at first. I kicked behind me and thrust my head back, hoping to break the nose of whoever was holding on to me.  
  
My feet kicked against something hard and unyielding, and I couldn’t get my head far back enough to hit anything. I looked down, and saw two large red lobster claws wrapped around my torso and arms, squeezing down on my composite breastplate. What the hell had got me?  
  
“THEY LAUGHED AT ME,” a speaker mounted on the chest of the… thing roared, “WHEN I SAID THE SECRETS TO THE HUMAN MIND LAY IN LOBSTERS! BUT WHO’S GOING TO BE LAUGHING AS MY ARMY OF LOBSTER MEN CONQUER THE WORLD?”  
  
The voice was so loud that I couldn’t hear _anything_ else, and winced as it drove two daggers into the sides of my head. Oh God, was this Doc Lob? What the hell was he doing south of the border? This really was a big push from the N.A.B., bringing in everyone they were friends with.  
  
I could worry about that later. Right now, I dug into my belt for anything that could help me. My fingers wrapped around the baton. I whipped it out and started hitting anything I could, flailing around behind me and trying to hit the claws holding me.  
  
I couldn’t tell if the claws were made out of actual, overgrown lobster shells or if it was some kind of plastic or what it was. But my baton wasn’t doing a damn thing, and the pressure was growing. I was horribly aware that my arms would have already been severed if it hadn’t been for the gap created by the rest of my body.  
  
“CEASE YOUR FUTILE ATTEMPTS TO DAMAGE THE NEXT GENERATION, WOMAN! SUBMIT TO THE INTELLUCATLY SUPERIOR GENDER!” The voice bellowed. It was so loud I could actually feel the vibrations inside my chest. “YOUR KIND DOES NOT _DESERVE_ TO EVEN LOOK UPON THE FRUITS OF MY GENIUS!”  
  
My other hand dove into the pockets and pouches, searching for something, anything else to help me with. My fingers closed around the tiny plastic cube that held the ladybug Skitter had given me. Even here, I could crush it, killing the insect and letting Skitter know that I was here. That _Missy_ was here.  
  
Fuck, this was a bad idea. But getting cut in two by a deranged Canadian was even less appealing. Wincing, I crushed the cube, just as I felt my breastplate give way. The claws and the jagged splinters of the armor started to press into my sides, stabbing into the shirt I wore underneath.  
  
Nothing happened, and I started to cry. I was about to _die_ and Skitter was ignoring me. Did she not know what had happened? Had she left the area? Did she think that Vista wasn’t _worth_ rescuing? A dozen horrible thoughts flashed through my mind as I felt the claws tighten around me.  
  
Then the light from the shattered window was cut off. I squinted my eyes, as a massive bulk came through the window, slamming into me and the monster holding onto me.  
  
I screamed as I was knocked back, trapped between the heavy bulks of this newcomer and whatever was holding onto me. Then I felt the claws wrapped around me loosen. I started thrashing, and slipped free of them.  
  
The newcomer stood up, and I could see half a dozen insectile legs moving it upwards. A name came to me, but I didn’t stop to think about it as I rolled to the side, getting away from both of them. My leg was still clipped by something as I scrambled away on my hands and knees.  
  
My arms were too sore to do that for long. And I didn’t want to run away without ever seeing just what the hell was happening. As I fetched up against a desk, I turned around, trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
Skitter’s giant blue and black bug was in the attic, squaring off against whatever had grabbed me. It was standing in the rectangle of light provided by the window, and I could see the wickedly curved horns jutting out from either side of its head.  
  
It really was a lobster man. Or lobster robot or something. It looked like a giant, seven-foot tall lobster had been stuffed into a retro-future suit of armor. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been about to kill me.  
  
“MORE INTERLOPERS _,_ ” Doc Lob bellowed from the speaker on the chest. Even from here, he was too loud. “WHY DO YOU ATTEMPT TO DAMANGE MY GLORIOUS CREATIONS?”  
  
The bug, Atlas, I recalled, charged in, swinging its overgrown head from side to side. The lobster was lost in a haze as a cloud of bugs descended on it, but if Skitter’s swarm was doing anything, I couldn’t tell. The lobster remained as silent as the grave as it swung a claw out, deflecting Atlas’s thrust.  
  
Skitter. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Skitter knew now. Fuck, she knew, she knew that I had been lying to her the entire time, she would never trust me again. Oh _God_ , what could I do?  
  
I pulled myself to my feet, moaning in pain at how much my arms hurt. I watched the fight between the minions, trying to decide if I should get involved. It was _so_ much easier to try and think on that instead of thinking about what Skitter would do.  
  
I didn’t have my baton, my armor was about ready to fall off of me, and my arms hurt so bad I thought I might be bleeding from them. I was no good in a fight, and there weren’t any _people_ here at risk besides me. And I _didn’t_ want to stay up here.  
  
I staggered off, clutching my arms. It was obvious what way was down. The giant lobster had smashed down a door to get up here, and I went for the staircase.  
  
“Vizta.”  
  
I jumped hearing, the buzzed words coming from right above me. I looked up and swallowed, seeing the small mass of insects above me.  
  
“S-Skitter,” I said, not certain if I was about to cry or throw up or scream at her.  
  
“I’m very dizappointed in you, Vizta,” the dark mass of bugs said, rubbing their legs together and beating their wings to create a horrible approximation of speech.  
  
There was no way I could outrun her. Not if she was so close that Atlas could arrive just seconds after I crushed the box. I forced myself to keep a slow, steady pace, and not run down the dark, narrow, steep staircase as fast as I could.  
  
“I’m a hero, Skitter,” I said, gasping the words. My stomach felt like it was turning over on itself, that I was going to throw up any second now. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, and I squinted, trying to see the stairs right in front of me. “I’ve always been a hero.”  
  
“I’m dizappointed that you needed my help,” the insects said, easily keeping pace with me as I went down floor after floor. “You’re not the woman I thought you were, if you needed rezcue.”  
  
“I, I’m not _Eidolon,_ ” I said, banging against the staircase wall. My legs were feeling weak and rubbery, and I wanted to get off this thing before they gave out. “I needed help. And you were the only one who could,” I whispered quietly, so quietly I wasn’t even certain if Skitter could hear me.  
  
“Mizzy,” the bugs said after a few moments. “We will talk about thiz. In perzon. When thiz iz over, you will come back and we will talk about why you lied to me for zo long.”  
  
Justifications rose to my tongue, clear, obvious reasons why I didn’t want to tell Skitter who I was. But I couldn’t get them past my lips. I swallowed and nodded. I didn’t feel able to speak.  
  
“Go on then,” the insects said, crawling and flying over each other as they hovered over my head. “Go zave the zity from the evil criminalz.”  
  
The bugs flew and crawled away, leaving me alone. I felt _angry_ over that, Skitter going before I could explain or retort or say anything to her. I didn’t know _what_ I would have said, but I still wanted the chance to have said it.  
  
I flinched as I burst through the shattered door, out onto the ground floor of the building. Up ahead, I could see the long rectangles of light from the entrance. I was panting for air, my breath hitching inside my chest. I couldn’t even tell what I was feeling right now, besides _crappy_.  
  
I blinked as I slowly walked out into the open air. I lifted my gaze, and saw, up above me on the far side of the street, a shattered window and another lobster man hanging from it. I couldn’t see any sign of Atlas or the lobster who had grabbed me from down here, up against the building’s wall.  
  
I looked up and down the street. Where was I going again? To Snowglare, obviously, but how did I get from here to there? I didn’t feel up for shooting up to the roofs to get my bearings. I didn’t feel up for shrinking this street down so I could cross it faster. I just started walking.  
  
Hugging my arms to myself, I trudged along, my feet heavily falling every time I took a step. I stared down at the ground, looking at the asphalt. It was getting hard to see, my feet, the ground, everything blurring.  
  
I was crying.  
  
I moved the visor to the side and rubbed my eyes with my sleeve. The weight of what I had done was coming crashing down on me like a tsunami, burying me underneath the weight.  
  
Skitter _knew_. She finally knew that I had been lying to her every single time we met. That every single time I had been going ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, ma’am’, I was working for the good guys. That I had been spying on her, finding out her secrets and using them to hurt her.  
  
It didn’t matter that I’d been hurting her criminal doings. Not to me, and I was certain it wouldn’t matter to her. She was never going to trust me again.  
  
I stumbled over a crack in the pavement, and went down to one knee. I stayed there for a minute, gasping for air, my arms wrapped tight around myself and each other. They hurt really, really badly. They hurt far too much for me to try and pull my sleeves up to see how badly they were damaged.  
  
I was never going to wear that maid outfit again, was I? I was never going to let Skitter inspect me, her eyes dancing as she looked at me behind her glasses. I was never going to feel her arms around me, tugging me in close against her. I was _finished_ with her.  
  
It was like I was walking through a black cloud, slowly lifting my feet up and down as I wandered. I couldn’t think clearly, the same few thoughts just popping into my head and leading nowhere as I stumbled along the empty streets. There was no more Skitter. No more Missy the Maid. She was- I didn’t even want to _think_ about what she was going to do to me when I visited. And I knew I was going to visit the lair one last time. I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself.  
  
My breath hitched as I remembered what it was like there. It was so… not _safe_ with Skitter, I was always aware that I was Vista, a hero, and she was Skitter, a villain. But it had been _fun_ and enjoyable. When I was with Skitter, I had known that… I had known that…  
  
I didn’t know what I had known. But the way she had made me feel, I _wanted_ that. I _wanted_ to listen to her tell me to do things, and feel her eyes on me while I did them.  
  
I looked up, trying to figure out where I was. I didn’t recognize the buildings. Just more endless rows of grey-faced buildings. Off in the distance, I could see the blue waters of the bay, and the southern edge of the city as a faint line on the horizon. Had I been facing south when I started out? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t care. I started towards the water-edge road.  
  
I slowly refastened my visor. I hadn’t even known I had taken it off. I supposed it was a good thing that nobody had come by and seen me with my mask off. I still had a secret identity to keep safe. Maybe. If Skitter didn’t decide to let everyone know who I was.  
  
I broke out past the last line of buildings, onto the road that ran along the edge of the bay. There was a tall chain-link fence separating the road and the water.  
  
I slowly, heavily walked over to a wall and put my back against it. I slumped down, pulling my knees up against my chest, and letting my arms hang limply from my sides. They felt like shit, even worse than the rest of me did.  
  
Maybe I could just stay here forever, I thought, letting my visor knock against my knees. I was hungry, I was tired, I was thirsty, and I felt like _crap_. Maybe I could just keep on sitting here against this grimy concrete wall.  
  
I stared out over the bay, looking at the buildings running up and down along it. Hundreds of them, more deeper into the city. People living in them, too. I had been part of this city my entire life. I could see the hospital I was born at from here. And I could see- it wasn’t my home, but it was where I had lived for the past few years, the Protectorate building.  
  
And I had _protected_ it for years and years. Longer than most of the other heroes and PRT troopers, too. I had fought and bled for it. And now- I stared out over my home city, seeing it blur. Was I going to be allowed to stay here? Was Skitter going to chase me off? If I went to the Protectorate, would they transfer me? What was I going to _do_? Would anyone trust me to be a hero again? Did I deserve to be a hero? It had felt so good to be with Skitter, but was anyone else going to see the good I felt? The good I _did_? Or was it just going to be… God, I didn’t even know what they did to heroes they thought were going to the dark side.  
  
I don’t know how long I sat there, crying and looking out over Brockton Bay. The pain inside me, my bruised arms, my battered chest, and my ripped-open heart, didn’t go away. I just… _sat_ , looking at the city. It actually looked pretty from here. My throat was getting dry, but I couldn’t get up to go look for some water. I was getting hungry, but I couldn’t go look for some food. I just listened to the waves and smelled the smoke and watched the sea. That was it.  
  
I only realized Toggle had been walking towards me when she sat down next to me. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, not turning my head. She didn’t say anything, just sat, staring out over the bay.  
  
I didn’t say anything either. There was nothing I could think to say. What was I going to tell her? That I had been fucking Skitter behind the backs of everyone? That all those times I had talked about how good it was to be a hero, I was literally in bed with the worst criminal in the entire city?  
  
Toggle wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them in close to her chest. It was almost a match for my position. I wondered how she had found me. Then I stopped wondering because I couldn’t bring myself to care enough.  
  
“We’ve got the fire guy,” Toggle said slowly, her voice leaden with fatigue. “Got hit by some giant armored lobsters. Drove them off” She sighed and turned her head away. “Snowglare says we won.”  
  
I bet Snowglare said _she_ won. And now she would be reporting it in to higher-up. And I knew who would be the star of the whole affair, the woman who had single-handily brought everything together. I couldn’t care enough to go try and dispute it.  
  
“Good job,” I said, still looking out over the bay, watching a small white dot of a sail off in the distance.  
  
“Yeah,” Toggle said, letting her head fall back against the concrete wall we were sitting against.  
  
I wondered if she was trying to comfort me. Or if I should be trying to comfort her. I couldn’t care about that any more than I could about getting credit for coming with a plan against Light of Liberty. I just wanted to _sleep_ , and not have to deal with any of this anymore. Just curl up right here on the sidewalk, and let it all go away for a while.  
  
The girl in the depressive fit and the girl who was… whatever the hell had happened to me. What a happy pair we were. I should be doing something, anything. But somehow, I just couldn’t care enough to actually go out and do it. I wanted to just keep sitting here, watching the waves, smelling the smoke. And thinking about me and Skitter.  
  
What on earth had I done? What on earth was I going to do?

**Maid to Serve: Movie Night**

  
I looked around the lobby of the movie theater. It was nice to have gotten inside from the freezing winter air, but there was still a problem. I didn’t see Anne _anywhere_ , and the movie was starting in, I checked my phone, two and a half minutes.  
  
Man, if she was late… And she was the one who asked _me_ to go out and watch a movie with her. I wouldn’t be able to yell at her, of course. Yelling at Toggle was like kicking a puppy.  
  
I glanced around the lobby again, letting my eyes wander over the ticket booths and the snack counter. Still no Anne- Holy _shit_ , that was Taylor.  
  
My face went a deep red as I saw her standing in the corner of the lobby, talking a pretty blonde girl. They were laughing and smiling at each other and standing just close enough for me to feel a bit jealous. And just a bit perverted. Taylor with a blonde (me) and Taylor with a blonde (that girl).  
  
I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. Okay, just stay calm, Missy. There was zero reason to go over there and ask Taylor what she was doing. Especially because there might be one or two _minor_ problems with a strange girl popping up and interrupting them. Funnily enough, I wasn’t going to put my visor on so that Taylor could know she was being a bad maid by talking to another cute blonde in front of her mistress.  
  
Unless, and I flushed pretty hard at the thought, she was trying to recruit the girl to be a maid for Vista as well. That could be, um, that was quite the thought. Taylor and her, standing in front of me, looking too cute in their black and white uniforms. Taylor explaining (and _demonstrating_ , that was even better) all the different duties a superheroine’s maid was expected to preform…  
  
I forced myself to look away, my cheeks so red and hot I thought they were going to catch on fire. Okay, don’t let Taylor see some girl she doesn’t know perving on her. And oh thank god, there was Anne coming through the doors. The perfect distraction.  
  
“Hi, Anne,” I said, smiling widely and walking across the lobby towards her.  
  
Anne’s face lit up. That was a good sign all on its own. And, even better, it wasn’t _too_ wide of a smile. She wasn’t in a hyper state. She wasn’t in a depressed funk. She was just _Anne_.  
  
“Hi, Missy,” she said, steering straight towards me. “Thank you _so_ much for agreeing to do this with me.”  
  
“It’s not a problem,” I said, stopping in front of her, a few feet away. “It’s been ages since I’ve gone out to see a movie with anyone. Say,” I said, feeling kind of surprised as I looked her over, “aren’t you kind of cold in that?”  
  
Toggle- _Anne_ , it was hard to think of her using her civilian name, was dressed like it wasn’t the middle of winter. She was dressed _nice_ , and she looked cute and all, but that didn’t seem like a hugely sensible outfit to wear when your breath clouded in the air. For her sake, I hoped she had taken the bus or gotten dropped off in front of the theater.  
  
“Oh, this?” Anne said, looking down at her yellow dress and black leggings. “Oh, it was just something I felt like wearing. Why? Do you like it?” She sounded kind of eager on the last note.  
  
“Yeah?” I said, feeling a bit confused. And shabby, with a three-year-old sweater and jeans on. “It looks good on you.”  
  
“Really?” Anne said, brightening up a lot. “I’m glad you like it.” She smiled widely, and twirled around, making the dress fly up a bit. “I, well,” she stopped, a blush on her face for some reason. “Let’s go watch that movie, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, sure thing,” I said, still feeling kind of puzzled over the whole thing.  
  
We stood in line for the tickets. I couldn’t help but notice that Taylor and her friend were a few spots behind Anne and I. Man, what were the chances of us deciding to go see a movie on the same day? Man, I hoped it wouldn’t be the _same_ movie. That would be just too embarrassing. Or had the chance for embarrassment, at least.  
  
And it wasn’t like I could talk about it with her. Taylor didn’t need to know that Vista saw her standing around. And it wasn’t like I could talk about it with Skitter, either. Even though I _had_ mentioned that I was coming to see this movie with a friend to her yesterday. It just wouldn’t be right for me to tell Skitter that I felt jealous about seeing my _other_ … whatever Skitter and Taylor were to me with another girl. Neither Skitter or Taylor knew about the other one, and I really did want to keep it that way. Being a maid to one, being a mistress to the other. That was how things were, and it was great.  
  
And there was _another_ , um, interesting thought. Anne joining me as a maid for Skitter. I silently cursed my brain for what it was doing to me. This was just an innocent, hopefully enjoyable, afternoon with a friend. I did _not_ need to be thinking about what Anne would look like in a maid outfit, standing right next to me in front of Skitter.  
  
“Are you okay?” Anne asked at me, as we got another step closer to the single staffed ticket booth. “You’re kind of red.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, nodding my head up and down. “Just feeling a bit nervous.”  
  
“Yeah,” Anne said, looking away. “Me too.”  
  
What reason did she have to be embarrassed for? It wasn’t like she knew anyone here besides me. Huh, weird. I filed the thought away, maybe to think about it some other time. Or maybe not. Probably not. Anne and I were just friends. Heck, we were _work_ friends who were getting together off of the job for the very first time. It was absurd (and also kind of creepy) to be perving on her.  
  
We bought the tickets, and Anne insisted on paying for mine as well. That was nice of her. We wandered off, deeper into the theater. We chatted a bit about what we thought the movie was going to be like.  
  
I looked over my shoulder and saw that Taylor and her friend were following us. Ah man, they weren’t going to watch the same movie we were, were they? And, more importantly, there was the way Taylor’s eyes got _really_ wide as she looked at me.  
  
I whipped my head back around, walking a bit faster. Had Taylor recognized me somehow? But _how_? I made sure I was always Vista around her. The mask _never_ came off, no matter how inconvenient it was. Maybe she thought I was someone else? Yeah, that was probably it.  
  
Anne and I sat down in our seats. The ads had already started, for cars that I wasn’t even allowed to drive, and booze I wasn’t allowed to drink. I glanced over at Taylor and her friend, sitting down on the opposite side of the theater.  
  
Okay, calm down, Missy. This could actually be a _good_ thing. It could give Taylor and I something to talk about later, during our next session. Fudge the dates a bit, and we could talk about how much we liked the movie. And I was already planning to do the same with Skitter, or at least recommend the movie if it was any good. Heck, maybe Taylor and I could hash out some thoughts on it, and I could impress Skitter later on by reciting them.  
  
“Hey, Missy,” Anne said, right next to me.  
  
I turned to look at her. She was smiling brilliantly, obvious even in the dancing lights from the movie screen. As happy as she looked, there was just a slightly tense note in her posture.  
  
“Thanks for doing this with me. I’ve never done something like this and I’m glad that it’s with you.”  
  
Anne had never been to a movie theater on her own before? That was _weird_. She hadn’t ever said anything about fundie parents or anything who thought that Hollywood was the Devil’s work or something. Well, we all had our own little quirks- foibles, that was a much better word (and one I had learned from Taylor during our naked reading time together).  
  
“I’m glad too,” I said, smiling back at her (and up. How was it fair that I was so much shorter than her when we were the same age?). “I hope we have a fun time together.”  
  
Her smile got even bigger and, even with the lights down, I thought she might be blushing. She opened her mouth to say something, but just squeaked and nodded. She quickly turned her head back to the screen, intently listening to an ad about real estate.  
  
It was nice to have a friend like Anne.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Maid to Serve Alternate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099554) by [LexiTheDoubleedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiTheDoubleedge/pseuds/LexiTheDoubleedge)
  * [Maid to Serve Alternate - Days in the Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107648) by [LexiTheDoubleedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiTheDoubleedge/pseuds/LexiTheDoubleedge)
  * [Maid to Serve - Sweet Little Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404078) by [LexiTheDoubleedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiTheDoubleedge/pseuds/LexiTheDoubleedge)




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